My Garden in September 2025

Not much work was carried out in the garden, other than general tidying up, in September as we were away the first 3 weeks, then a week was spent recovering from the flights and the jet leg, then I started a new job.

Everything was so dry on our return. The ground was cracked as was the fruits and the tomato vines had collapsed with the weight and a lot of fruit had started to rot on the ground.

Anything that had survived was small in size and was starting to be eaten by insects.

There was a lot that was salvageable and very tasty.

The lawn obviously node mowing, but there had just about been the right amount of rain to stop it drying out, but not too much rain for it to have grown out of control.

I love the little flower growing in the cracks. It's been repotted now.

A mouse got into the cushion box.

I hoped I could protect the melons from the insects by reusing the mice nibbled cushion cover, I failed.

I reached genius level with this. Bamboo canes to direct the over flow from the water butt directly into the bucket.

At some point I'll have to speak to next door about her ivy plant, last time it over grew our fence causing it to collapse, she's rarely at home and we did have tenants who failed to keep up with garden maintenance. 

More crops from the garden.

The cantaloupe melons were small but delicious. I cut around where they'd been nibbled and had enough for 2 servings.

I've kept the seeds for next year.

Pots have been moved around, wooden cold frame in it's winter position and plastic cloche set up.

Pruning of the olive and rose bush before the first frosts.

Herbs repotted and moved to the front door step

Pumpkins grown from seed. I got the seeds from Canna at the Three Counties Autumn show last year from a previous World Record Pumpkin. 

knock on the pumpkins and if they sound wooden then they're ready to harvest.

There's still a bit of colour in the garden, some geraniums and I've planted pansies in the hanging basket out the front.

We've had more beans and tomatoes and whilst the peppers were small they were very tasty.

Week 41 - One Daily Positive and Project 365 - Stephanie One Year on without you.

The build up to this week has been horrendous. I always do this. I self sabotage. I'm on a sabbatical from work for a month after only a week of starting a new job. I try and put things into place knowing that I'm going to struggle. I think positive, I speak out, ask for help and say what I need, but no one listens. I self destruct, I get angry, I start to switch off, I want to be on my own. I want to run away.

Then as the day gets nearer, the anger subsides, the fear is lessened and my head is clearer and I'm free to just grieve, just cry and mourn the loss of Stephanie for what she meant to me, the loss not only just for Stephanie, but for me, my future without her.

No one grieves for or misses Stephanie other than Peter and I, or at least tells us that they do. No one else understands the impact Stephanie had on our lives, our little bit of the world and few understand the impact of how our lives are affected by the loss of Stephanie. 

Only a few people were capable of loving Stephanie.

Sunday 

Day 277 Slept till 8am. Packed up the van and met friends at the retail park in Newport for coffee. Home to find this rose on the doorstep from my lovely friend Amy, I was in tears when I saw its name. We unpacked the van, had dinner and just chilled out for the evening, mostly with the cat taking it in turns to claim us. 

Monday 

Day 278 Peters birthday and after a lie in and a lazy morning, we drove into town for a coffee and a walk round, did some shopping and home to do some work in the garden. Video calls with two of the kids and a nice relaxing day together. Clear blue skies and warm weather.

Tuesday 

Day 279 We marked the first anniversary of Stephanie’s death with a visit to the Forest of Dean to lay flowers in a place that is special to us. We had lunch and drove home. There were flowers from child 2 in Northern Ireland and a video call with our grandson who wanted me to play with the paw patrol tower in his bedroom in our house. We spent the evening in front of the tv refusing to acknowledge the clock as we’d decided we didn’t want to relive the day, just the happy times.

Wednesday 

Day 280 A difficult day. I went out to source a plumber and some brochures for new bathrooms whilst Peter started work on the downstairs loo. I had a coffee and picked up a couple of gifts. Home to spend the afternoon messaging my cousin in America, she’s been the most amazing support this year despite losing her mother. These gorgeous flowers arrived from her. Early bath, dinner and another evening in front of the tv.

Thursday 

Day 281 Morning spent searching for Chase. Granddaughter did a good job tidying after her visit but grandson was concerned things weren’t back in the right place. I also rehoused all the coats and shoes from the downstairs loo whilst Peter is decorating and I packed up all the gifts I’m taking for birthdays and Christmas to Northern Ireland at the end of the month. In the afternoon I visited my old student for an hour, went into Worcester for a coffee and new trainers then met two friends to watch Downton Abbey at the cinema.

Friday 

Day 282 After a lazy morning in bed till midday I finally got up and started my couch to 5k on the NHS app. I surprised myself and really enjoyed it. We went out for coffee, I finished reading a book and after dinner we watched tv.

Saturday 

Day 283 We headed out to Hanbury Park near Droitwich for the day. Enjoying a 4 mile walk, making coffee in the van and having a picnic before exploring the house. Home to change some photos in frames and make up some new ones, pack a Christmas box for my cousin in America and son in Australia and start making some Christmas cards.

Things to make you smile: 

Playing with grandson over a video call with the Paw Patrol Tower, we couldn't find Chase and his suggestion was I booked a ferry, travelled over in the camper van and he'd give me one of his so we could play together.

Things that made me happy:

Discovering I can actually run. I downloaded the couch to 5k app, bought new running trainers (mine gave up life on holiday) and I completed my first session with a walk/run of 2.5 miles in 28 minutes and I've signed up to my first park fun in November.

On the blog this week:

Stephanie - One year on without you. I'm Sorry.

Post Comment Love - Link up with any post written this week

Word of the week - Future

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

10th - 12th October 2025 - Post Comment Love

Welcome back to #PoCoLo with Stephanie from Bosworth.Life and I.

Post Comment Love #PoCoLo is a friendly weekly linky where you can link up any blog post you've written this week. If you're new or a regular visitor we're sure you'll find something of interest.

We'd also appreciate your help spreading the #PoCoLo word on Twitter, tag us and we'll RT. You can find us on twitter here: Stephanie - @BosworthLife and Suzanne - @ChickenRuby 

I'll be catching up with reading your posts, sharing and commenting over the next few days. 

I've been feeling a bit fragile the past few weeks. When you need help you don't always know what you need and it's difficult to ask for it. Sometimes it's hard when you do know what help you need to actually say it out loud.

Please phone/message me without me asking you to or in response to my social media posts or just because it's the first anniversary of Stephanie's death.

Please invite me out to do something nice this week.

That's it, that's all.

Sounds very needy doesn't it? Ungrateful? People just don't know what to say, they've got their own lives, time moves on. Yes, indeed it certainly does. But for a handful of people, it didn't. They took the time and they stopped to put us first not just this week, but in the build up to the anniversary, the whole of the year. I am forever grateful and I will drop everything in the future for them if and when they need me.

OK, no one invited me out for a random coffee, but I did make my own plans and I went to the cinema with 2 friends last night to watch Downton Abbey. It gave me something to look forward to at the end of the week which I knew I'd need. I doubt they realised just how much.

Want to find out more about Post Comment Love #PoCoLo? 

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

Word of the week - Future

I'm aware more than most just how fragile the future is.

We all make plans that don't come to fruition and we all have dreams that we know will never happen for a variety of reasons.

It's been a year since Stephanie died. She was such a part of my future. She was my future.

As our adult children left home, including Stephanie and we became expats and our last two children left home, we didn't really know what the future would hold for us. We had plans, we had dreams, we had expectations.

Peter would retire, we'd move back to the UK, I'd resume my career. We'd travel. My father died suddenly without warning and life stood still in 2017 for 6 months. I'd just finished a job and was embarking on a new career due to start the following month. I never got back into a routine, I didn't get a life back for me. I just drifted for the next few years, just waiting to restart. 

Grandchildren filled my time as I travelled between Dubai and the UK, relocating back here permanently in March 2020 in covid to be here for Stephanie, unsure of what the future would be again for the next 18 months.

We brought Peter's retirement forward, had an extension built and a new kitchen. I started working and it felt like for the first time in ages we had settled down, things were sorted. The kids were all settled and happy, we had been travelling, had travel booked, were spending time with our grandchildren. The house was sorted, we'd sold the flat and were rid of the stress of being landlords after living abroad. We bought a campervan. We started planning our new future.

We had a year with a grandchild needing surgery in and out of hospital and he still has moments here he is unwell, but no further surgery needed. Our lovely Bob the dog died aged 13 which upset us far more than we ever anticipated. Yes, we had some stress in our lives and we anticipated things would go wrong and there would be problems, but we knew we'd just have to cope with things and that together we'd be able to do this.

Day, to day, week to week, month by month and yearly plans and dreams were being put into place. The future was quiet, it was peaceful, it was what we had envisioned. 

We didn't have everything planned for our future, we also acknowledged that things wouldn't always go to plan. We might have to move before we're ready to due to ill health or disability. We might have to sell the van and give up our camping trips earlier than planned.

There is however a natural order to things. The future was me in my 80's after Peter died (he's 14 years older than me) in a coffee shop with Stephanie having lunch. My granddaughter with her children having collected me and driven me there for our monthly meet up.

I'd even told my 6 year old granddaughter I'd buy her a car when she was bigger so she could drive me to see Aunty Stephanie when she was a big girl.

Whatever we had planned, however far ahead we had booked in our diary, the future was always me in the coffee shop with Stephanie. 

That coffee shop will always be in my future and so will my granddaughter, whether it'll be in my old age, whether she will have children herself is to be seen, but as long as we can get to the coffee shop or at least get to each other, we can still have that future and I can make sure that Stephanie lives on in our family through our granddaughters memories of the brief time she got to spend with her.

Stephanie - One year on without you. I'm sorry.

I've tried to write this several times Stephanie and I'm finding it so hard. I can't believe a year has passed since you have died. 

Every postcard, letter, birthday or Christmas card written, every gift sent, every hello and every goodbye was the same. You didn't respond to us when you were alive. Every word spoken to you then went unanswered just as this message to you now.

Did you know who I was? Did you know how much I loved you? Cared for you missed you? Fought for you?

Were you even aware that all these things were possible?

I doubt you knew what day of the week it was, did you even have the concept of days of the week?

You knew when you were hungry, thirsty, when your pad needed changing, but you were unable to communicate that, ask for food or drink. You'd laugh or cry, pull your hair or ours, take yourself to your room or bang on the kitchen counter. It was all guess work with you Stephanie, a process of elimination, starting each time with your pad, a drink, then food, check your feet, make sure your clothing wasn't too tight, then what? Were you ill? tired? In the end you died because you couldn't tell anyone in time that you were unwell. Who knows if you'd been able to communicate that you were unwell, I might not be writing this letter to you.

Everything was a guessing game with you. Were you happy? Did you like the food you were given? Did you prefer cold drinks? Did you want more cakes and chocolates or were you a savoury girl like your dad?

You ate what we gave you, you drank what you were given. You stole food from your brother's plates, they would fight for their Yorkshire puddings, you'd win. 

Did we read into your responses that you preferred one thing to another? Did we choose not to give you a certain food, drink or experience because we saw a negative reaction one day and assumed it was because you didn't like it.

I'm sorry for taking the raw onion off you when you grabbed it in the kitchen, when you pulled a face but carried on eating it, you might have been enjoying it, but the social norms said not to let you eat it. I'm sorry I let you eat the garden snail that one time. I tried to remove it from your mouth. I was gagging as you crunched through the shell, you bit my fingers and clamped your mouth shut. In the end I walked away from the sound of the chewing but not too far that I couldn't see you until you had finished, then gave you a drink.

In that case I'm sorry for all those times and all those times I missed the signs that you were uncomfortable or were unwell or just pissed off with me or just wanted to be on your own in your room, but we dragged you out. I'm sorry I shut the car door on your fingers. I've never forgiven myself for that.

After you died I discovered the staff in your supported living had kept every card and letter I'd even written. They were chewed and battered, they had read them to you, they had given them to you to hold. Then after you tried to eat it like you did with everything placed into your hand or you swiped, you dropped them to the floor. 

I'm not sorry I fought for you, loved you and I'm not sorry if I got it wrong. I'm not sorry for the meltdowns I had in various supermarkets and coffee shops about the state of the disabled toilets. I'm not sorry for telling people to 'fuck off, life is hard enough as it is' without their thoughtless comments or stares and physical pushing into you as I struggled with a trolley, your bag, a door and a step.

I'm sorry that it's all over. That you don't get to be spit on me one last time, or get to pull my hair or leave me feeling absolutely shattered at the end of the day having taken you out for a coffee or a food shop. That I don't get to lift you in and out the car, while you dig your finger nails into my arm, or drag you round the supermarket anymore or pick you up off the floor because you're tired or change your pad and stop you from grabbing me or the pad and the dirty surfaces in an enclosed space. That I don't get to fight with the staff about remembering to put your socks on inside out so the seam doesn't rub your feet and cause blisters or sigh and raise my eyebrows and go through the whole why you had to wear certain boots to support your ankles and not these flimsy ones, they kept buying you because they were fashionable.

I'm also sorry not no one else shares our loss, that no one else misses you, no one else talks about you. 

Looking after you was hard. We were fortunate that we had lots of external support due to your complex needs. It wasn't a choice not to have you living at home. It wasn't a choice to love you.

Your death resolves us of worry, for your future, what happens to you after we've gone, who fights for you after we're no longer here. That was as much a part of our lives as you were. It came in equal measures. You are no longer with us, our hearts ache for you, our loss, our future without you.

I'm sorry there won't be anymore photos.