Pollyanna is alive and well

For those who read my blog regularly it will come as no surprise to hear that "Pollyanna" moments are rare as hens' teeth, in my world.

Today is an exception.

Early this morning a visitor to St. Mary's remarked that I was very lucky to work in such a wonderful old building.

This made me think for a second that it is all too easy to take for granted what a privilege it is to spend half my waking life in a Grade One listed building with many centuries of history as my daily 'wallpaper'.

Getting home to my nice warm clean house (courtesy of Sue who cleans for me once a week), and looking out of the rear window to see Nick the gardener back bent double, digging out yards of ground elder, I realised just how very fortunate I am.

Only a few months ago I was really despondent at the state of my poor neglected garden, aware that under the weeds brambles and ground-elder a lot of my treasured plants and shrubs were either already dead or dying from lack of attention and sunshine.

For some reason when densely planting my small plot I never once considered the possibility that I would one day grow too old to give it the care and hard work it would need.

Never one to cross my bridges before i come to them, it had been quite easy to put such thoughts into storage, only for them to suddenly emerge and threaten to engulf me.

Now at last there is light and air around my shrubs, bare soil where there was thick green weed cover, and best of  all, space to plant replacements for some of my lost treasures.

Nick has also climbed a ladder and replaced a bulb in my security light which has been absent for about 3 months.

I truly never thought I would be so grateful to other people for restoring my surroundings to their former order and beauty.

Sometimes there are compensations for being old.