small books about flowers and memories

We keep our memories stored in all sorts of places.

When any of us in our family think of orchids it is inevitable that our Father comes to mind. He loved them. Some years ago a lovely young woman stayed in our house to look after the menagerie whilst we were away in India and Nepal. She was soon to launch into a new phase of her life, getting there in a small car and on a long drive. There was no space for Nan’s Orchid and a few other plants, so they were left in my care.

I didn’t know it was an orchid as it was not a cymbidium – the only variety I knew; so I was enthralled and surprised when it burst into flower in spring. Every day I pass the pot, and I think of her. It is a lovely connection.


The second book is a meditation on the life of an old lady – a Dorothy, but not my mother – as she is drawing towards the end of her life. Deep in dementia, she is hearing things, and is remembering her past – the difficult, as well as the good times. She is frightened. As a young child growing up in wartime England, she was sent away from her family, her home and the bombings; then went on to lead a sometimes extraordinary, and sometimes mundane, life. Like all long lives, it’s a complex story, this is my glimpse into part of it.

each page is 10 x 10 cm.