The Honeysuckle is rampant again and the old broken trellis is groaning and keeps falling over under the weight – I’ll have to get it fixed.

Since you’ve been gone I spend more and more time out here – in between the torrential storms that have brought floods to a third of the people of this England of ours.

My battle with the slugs and snails has reached an all time high – I never did like killing things. I’m sure they know that I’m a soft touch because lately they’ve become confident enough to crawl to the top of the Petunias and blatantly sit there in broad daylight. I could swear that one even gave me the V sign.

The silence in the house is killing me but out here in the cool of the evening with the breeze gently stirring the sea – horse wind chime, do you remember that? you gave me some money to buy it on one of our many trips to Brighton. The wooden seagull is looking well past his sell by date, the head has rotted in the wind and rain – I keep sticking it back on with araldite but I think that his day’s in the garden are numbered.

Brighton, will I ever be able to go there again? Bitter sweet memories of wandering the Lanes, having a pint in the square as the seagulls screeched overhead and the Jazz Band got tanked up and into the spirit of things. Later chips on the pier and an ice cream. Those were the good years, but the last three as your lungs got worse were like an obstacle course of endurance as you struggled to walk just a few yards at a time. It was hard for me to go on on ahead, your choice because you had to be so focused on what you were doing. How I admired the way you coped with it all. I did tell you that didn’t I.

Right to the end you were determined to do something positive each day no matter how small or trivial. You never were very keen on the garden were you – I always had to nag you when it was time to mow the lawn – to prise you away from the love of your life – playing and writing music. How you would fly around with the mower – like a thing possessed – chopping off all the flowers that were unfortunate enough to have their heads hanging over the edge.

Hey, here’s a strange thing – the Ground Elder is non-existent this year – not a sign. All the years that I battled to keep it down, it always came back – I thought that it would definitely see me out, but then everything is topsy turvy in the garden this year. it now appears that we had our summer back in March when daffodils and roses came out together. Where are the birds and the bumble bees that always added their comforting drone to the garden as they went about their business in the tall cream hollyhocks? Not gone forever I hope.

Still, the new rose bushes that I planted for you are flourishing, all heavy with delicious scent, I’ll sit a bit longer, though it’s getting quite chilly now – just another glass of Chardonnay and I’ll go in.

Cheers darling, we didn’t quite make our Golden Wedding Anniversary but we had a good innings didn’t we?