The lavender I planted on Doris Hardy's grave is flourishing. I visited for frequent waterings during dry April and hardly at all in wet May. Today, in glorious sunshine, I went to admire the lavender's abundant flower-heads and watched ants doing their communal thing on the warmed concrete of Doris's, her aunt Mary's and grandmother Sarah's grave.
Have yet to sit and spin using a spindle by the grave, a nod to the word 'spinster' etched into the stone - I plan to do this on Friday.
