August is an unseasonal month to be sowing the first seeds in The Lettuce Patch. By now, we should be enjoying the fruits of our labour; long & lazy, cool & fresh salad lunches under a shady umbrella, with a full- to- the- brim glass of elderflower cordial, clinking with ice. However, it has taken a week of downtime, away from the hustle & bustle of the office, for inspiration, creativity & motivation to finally show up. Better late than never !
As a hard working mother of two, one who has flown the nest & the second with alot more wing growing to do, I’ve spent over 25 years devouring books & magazine articles, listening to TV & radio gurus, trying to discover the secrets of a happier life. And you know what ? I believe that they’ve been here, right under my nose, all of the time. Tiny seeds, which I just haven’t noticed.
It’s time for these seeds to be planted and nutured. Some will thrive, some will die. Like any novice gardener, I’ll make mistakes along the way. The threat of slugs, snails, the weather, footballs & local cats will be ever present.
I’ve named my test bed “The Lettuce Patch”, as a tribute to Mark, one of my best mates at college. He called me Lettuce – he was the first person to give me a nick-name & I loved him for it. We laughed so hard through our “A” level Geography lessons that we sometimes couldn’t breathe. Happy memories of tearing along the road in his British Racing Green mini, with Luther Vandross blaring out of the tape player (it was the 80’s…), of sitting in his car every lunchtime eating sausage rolls or cheese & onion pasties from the Baker’s Oven. Our lives took us in very different directions after college, mine to married life & motherhood, his to University. We lost touch. Several years later, the headline in the local paper drove a dagger through my heart. Mark had jumped from a motorway bridge into the path of lorry. He was killed instantly. Soon after it had happened I wrote a letter to his parents, not knowing what on earth I could/should say. As a mother myself, I couldn’t begin to imagine what they were going through. All I could say, from the bottom of my heart, was that I hoped my sons would grow up to be as wonderful, caring, generous & full of life as the Mark I knew & loved.
Through this page I’ll share my journey of discovery, in the hope that it will inspire others to share theirs.
So, I’m embarking on this journey, in memory of Mark & I’d like to invite those of you up for an adventure, those willing to indulge the thoughts & ramblings of a novice blogger, on her first expedition in search of happiness, to come with me.