Today I visited Buxton for the first time and was suitably impressed by the fabulous drive there, framed by moody peaks and adorable sheep and lambs, and by the lovely ceramics of the fair at the Dome. I bought a mug which I am presently using as a vase. Nine daffs poked through the shambles that is my front garden; I am always awed by their resilieance. They were planted years ago and are pretty much suffocated by grovel, membrane and debris I am always too busy, and too little inclined, to remove. Yet every year they come up long after most daffs have finishing blooming, with a stamina I never knew flowers could display. And mine are pert, very sunny and very lovely.
