Meet Rose and Violet. They are very egg-cited for the Easter bonnet parade.
The three things you see most at Easter in England are 1. hot cross buns, 2. chocolate eggs, and 3. children on parade, wearing homemade Easter bonnets. So I had to incorporate all these things into my Easter mouse hole scene.
We made it through March. Always, always my least favorite month of the year–the dregs of winter dragging on for 31 days, so tedious after February’s brief 28–made even more dismal by the circumstances of a pandemic and lockdown; now, add in that today is the first anniversary of my father’s death.
But tomorrow will be April.
The combination of spring weather and an easing of lockdown restrictions this week has made an obvious difference in the vibe around here. It feels like we have finally made it through The Darkest Winter, and never has spring felt so much like coming out of hibernation.
Everyone is emerging from their hermitages, looking less like beautiful metamorphosed butterflies and more like hairy, hangry bears, desperate for socialization and sunlight, and probably also a roots touchup.
On International Women’s Day, I received a notification that I’d been included in this list of “inspirational local women.”
I’m sure it’s not deserved, and there are plenty of way more inspirational women than me in our borough, but consider me very flattered!
For the past week and a half, we have watched a tragedy unfold right here in our neighbourhood. Sarah Everard, a 33-year-old woman, left her friend’s house on the street directly adjacent to our block, and began walking home to Brixton, across Clapham Common. She never arrived home.
About a day later, I started receiving messages from people sharing the information that a woman had disappeared from our area. Missing person fliers appeared on every post around here.
A massive search took place over the following days, with police combing Clapham Common and knocking on doors, asking people to check their doorbell camera footage from the night she disappeared. Helicopters hovered over our typically quiet (by the standards of a major city, anyway) neighbourhood.
Well, this was a surprise! We have a boot scraper copycat–er, mouse–hole around the corner from the original Wakehurst Mouse Hole!
An invitation appeared in “my” mouse hole the other day, which the homeowner took a photo of and sent to me. I quickly headed down the road to check it out in person.
After seeing the note, I walked around the corner and discovered this: