Flâneur Gardening

>On Friday I flew over to London to meet up with my husband for the weekend. Nothing fancy, just a weekend together in a city that we both know and love.

We didn’t do a great deal. The whole weekend was mainly spent strolling around London, having some lovely food and wine and meeting up with a few people for short intermezzos in a weekend that was really all about us. On Saturday we had lunch with my English ex-boyfriend and watched the fireworks for the Lord Mayor’s Day, and today, Sunday, we had coffee with the husband’s best friend before heading towards Heathrow and saying goodbye for now. We’ll meet up in Aberdeen on Friday, though, so it’s not a terribly long separation this time.

I love London. I lived there for a few years, and it always feels like a sort of home-coming when I step on to an underground train and make my way toward the city. That city will always have a special place in my heart. London (2000-2003) and Paris (1997-1998) will always, no matter where I live, be “home”.

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In other news we’ve planned our travel schedule for 2011, and I got a small but important change squeezed into it: My husband suggested going away for Easter, but since he so desperately wants to be a part of our garden and take part in the shaping of it I suggested that the Easter holidays be spent in the summer house. A lot of plants will have to be sown before that, but mid-April should be a good time to plant out seedlings, establish flower beds and generally kick-start the garden for summer. And he will be back in Denmark for a week in late May, so he will have a chance to see how everything is getting along a month after.

I hope this will help give him that connection with the garden that he right now feel is lacking because I do everything on my own. After all, this is our project and our place. Our garden. There’s something wonderful about sharing this adventure. Rome and London might seem more glamorous, but we’ve invested so much more of our relationship in a little plot of land between two fjords. That will never be “home”; it’s Home.