a year later... or thereabouts.
So, it's been a year since Mum passed. Well, kind of.
I mean, she died at 06:10 on 1 March 2023 AEDT, but for me, that means her time of death was actually 19:10 GMT on 28 February 2023.
So, for me, that should mean the anniversary of her passing was on 28 February 2024.
Except that this year is a leap year, so 06:10 AEDT on 1 March 2024 was 19:10 GMT on 29 February 2024.
Confused yet?
If I base the anniversary on the date she passed away in Australia (as that's where she was), then I'm posting this late. But it's still only 1 March 2024 here in London, so I guess I get longer to mark the anniversary.
Has anyone noticed I possess a certain sentimentality and a penchant for marking such important dates at precisely the right moment?
Though I didn't have a chance to post about it at either of the potentially recognised moments, it's been on my mind for some time, particularly during the evening on 28 February when it felt like I should acknowledge the passing of a year since her death.
Dad and I acknowledged the anniversary within the hour of her passing on 1 March 2024, his time, in our family WhatsApp chat.
Yesterday afternoon, a little before and a little after my day's sitting with Francois ended, and before I left for my first sitting of the year with my regulars, I edited these two photos to share with this post acknowledging the anniversary.
Although I don't think she had any particular preference for daffodils (I don't remember them appearing often within bouquets she bought or received), her death will now be inextricably linked to them in my mind because of her passing on St David's Day and, in particular, because of her Welsh ancestry.
So, I was already thinking ahead to today when I photographed these two specimens in Frank's backyard the last weekend I sat him in mid-February. Knowing there would be photographs of daffodils as part of my tribute to her this year, as I have access to very few photos of her, and most I've already shared. While thinking ahead to the date and time conundrum as the impact of this leap year had already occurred to me by then.
One thing I didn't get to do while I was visiting Dad was to pore over their photo albums. Two weeks isn't a long time when you're working part-time, sorting through your deceased mother's personal effects and catching up with family you haven't seen in person in about three years.
I didn't know how I would feel one year on. If I'm honest, I still don't.
I mean, there's definitely been a sea of emotions surging around me for the past week or so.
I initially hoped to write my thoughts on the "exact" anniversary (for me). But practical matters had to be dealt with. So, instead, I sort of softly welled up thinking about it without having the time or capacity to put the feelings into words. But knowing I would when I could.
I know it's cliched to say it feels like less than a year, but in the same breath, to say it feels more than a year. But it does.
It's been less than a year since we said goodbye as a family and scattered her ashes.
It's been more than a year since she and I last spoke. Or rather, I spoke to her, as she didn't have many words left by then.
So, the passing of time since her passing has been warped and bent. Though that's not uncommon. I know others feel similarly about the passing of their loved ones, even without the added confusion of leap years interfering with their marking of time.
I wrote a lot about her last year. And I don't doubt I will write more in time. I took photos while visiting my family in Australia that triggered memories, anecdotes, and so forth that I hope to capture in words. Some I'll capture for myself. Others I'll share.
In the meantime, as Spring drags its feet returning to England, the daffodils rush in and bloom on the verges and traffic islands, in suburban gardens, central London parks, cemeteries, the local supermarket, the vase in the entry to our building placed there by my Welsh neighbour who lives downstairs. And in my mind.
For Mum. In her memory.
puffball convention
west lane baptist church
strapped in
sowbread
Some Cyclamen hederifolium I photographed in the churchyard of St Nicholas' Church in Arundel while visiting in September 2021.
things of stone and wood
so he brought them to the haven where they would be
cafe inside
hands clasped
post-floral
painted gold
This gold-painted Royal Mail post box caught my eye on the high street in Coedpoeth during a photo walk while sitting Meg and Mog in October 2021.
As the plaques say (in Welsh and English), Royal Mail painted it gold in celebration of Tom James, one of the British coxless four men's rowing team who took gold in the London 2012 Olympic Games.
Though he was born in Cardiff, he considers Coedpoeth his hometown, and he also has a post box painted gold in his honour in nearby Wrexham.
I did not know this was a thing. But, according to Wikipedia, All British gold medal winners at the 2012 Olympics were honoured with appearing on Royal Mail postage stamps, and having a post box in their home town painted gold. (I'm not sure why Tom got two, but Wikipedia cites the Wrexham one as his main one).
blood red
Two of my self-portraits - one from my wallflowers series, the other from my plush series - are included in Issue #123: Color 2024 of F-Stop Magazine, and both feature floral motifs: the wallpaper in one and my dress in the other.
This photograph, which I took in my parents' garden in Redland Bay in 2009, of a Cordyline fruticosa (commonly known as a ti plant) doesn't include a floral motif. But the leaves are so vibrant with the backlighting that they fit the colour theme I submitted to.
Since I've already shared the two photographs included in F-Stop Magazine, I thought I'd share this one alongside the news.
hedd, perffaith hedd
granny's nightcap
An Aquilegia vulgaris (also known as common columbine, granny's nightcap and granny's bonnet) I photographed in Jo and Becky's backyard in Cotton End while sitting Meg and Mog in August 2022.
mary the beloved
Hello, my lovelies.
It's been a while since I wrote you a rambling, diary-like post and for that, I'm sorry. (Though you may not be ;) )
Things have been busy with me, so many times I have time to edit a photo or four, but it's been a while since I've been able to sit down and write creatively or even just to write to give you an update.
The obvious exception is my end-of-year post. And, looking back, it seems it's been about a month since I wrote something more than a cursory caption about what I'm sharing.
I've been at home more the past few months. Post-summer, pet sittings dropped off, which was welcome. As much as I love all the kittehs and doggos I sit, it was nice to be more settled for a time.
While the homes I sit pets in are always like a home away from home (and the pet parents always make me feel welcome in their homes), I still live out of a suitcase, and I don't always have access to my raw photographs for editing and/or an acceptable screen to edit photos on.
I finally had some paid annual leave in November. I intended it to be a staycation*, but I put the word out to a couple of photographer friends and some family, and suddenly, I had three photo walks in my lap, two nights away, and a day trip out of town. My plans for cleaning, decluttering and downsizing went out the window quite quickly. I'm not unhappy about that, but it means those tasks are still on my to-do list as I write this.
Since then, my day-job brain has been addled and exhausted by piecing together functionality created long before I joined the organisation and trying to mesh that with new functionality to ensure what our web agency has created is fit for purpose. It's a challenge (which I usually love) but has often left me feeling like I've pulled that loose thread on an item of clothing, and I wish I hadn't.
The new year has started on a positive note.
There was a day trip to meet a friend in Milton Keynes. A weekend in Bishop's Stortford, reuniting with a former landlady and her family and meeting two sweet doggos I'll sit in summer - a Maltipoo called Dudley and a Cockapoo called Betsy. And (what is now) yesterday, meeting a sweet but flatulent, snorting French bulldog called Francois (naturally), who lives locally and whom I'll be sitting semi-regularly over the coming months.
I'm somewhat wary of speaking out loud about my travel plans for the first quarter of the year, given my previous travel plans fell through for reasons beyond my control.
But I've booked (free(!) first-class return) tickets using the vouchers reissued last January (and a bonus one that snuck into my inbox!), and my manager has signed off my annual leave.
I still need to book my accommodation, which I'm a bit nervous my bank balance will struggle with, but I plan to visit Llandudno in Wales for a week in early to mid-March. Manchester for a long weekend in late March. And Glasgow for four days in early April.
I booked my tickets at the eleventh hour before my vouchers expired. I could only book as far ahead as early April, so it's all a bit hectic over the next few months between my travels, work and pet-sitting, which will start to pick up again from next weekend.
I'm looking forward to returning to north Wales, a bit further along the Avanti West Coast network than Wrexham, where I travelled to and on to Minera in late October 2021 to sit Meg and Mog for Jo and Becky in the old vicarage. I'm hoping to see more of Wales generally in future, especially returning to the south where Mum's family came from and where I haven't visited since Christmas 1991.
It will be my first visit to Edinburgh's "lesser" sister, Glasgow, but I'm looking forward to the Necropolis and exploring the city and its museums, galleries and botanical gardens.
It will be a return to Manchester, where I've visited at least three times. It seemed a sufficiently substantial distance to justify a first-class ticket but a short enough journey for a long weekend (and, as I've been there before if I have to sacrifice one of the trips due to my finances not covering accommodation, I can live with that).
I thought about visiting Liverpool, which I think I've only driven through. But nothing drew me to Tate Liverpool during the dates I was looking at, and I hoped to catch up with a friend while in Manchester (though we'll see if that will still come to pass).
So, with Wales on my mind and recent fruit and flower photographs captured in Jo and Becky's backyard in their current home in Cotton End, I thought I'd share some more photos from St Mary's Church in Minera in October 2021. I have so many I still need to edit and share, including some more puffball photos to come in a few weeks.
The light after the rain was just delicious and so wonderful for me to experience and capture the graves in the churchyard.
It was a magical Monday morning. If only all my Monday mornings started with such beautiful, inspiring, contemplative and creative visions and experiences. Followed by exploring a new place (or even a familiar place is welcome), some exercise in the fresh air (a mixture of strenuous and gentle), a refreshing pint of cider in a welcoming pub at the end of a productive day, cheese, and cuddles with a kitteh or a doggo.
I'd almost** become a morning person for that shit ;)
So, that's where I'm up to as we close in on the end of January (seriously?! Already?!)
What are you guys looking forward to this year? I'd love you to tell me in the comments x
** I'm not fooling anyone, am I? But I'd probably get my butt out of bed earlier more regularly. Probably.
stinking willie
A Jacobaea vulgaris (also known as ragwort, common ragwort and stinking willie) I photographed in Jo and Becky's backyard in Cotton End while sitting Meg and Mog in August 2022.