As a treat for getting to the end of my second week of recovery after my operation, I took a trip out of London to my Gran and Grandad's house snug in the leafy suburbs of Buckinghamshire. I decided to bring along with me the reason I've stashed £20 notes under my bed for a year (if it's in the bank I'm sure to spend it), and why I begged for my birthday and Christmas present money to come all at once - my lovely Canon PowerShot SX30 IS.
My Grandad has always loved gardening. I remember spending hours as a little girl, potting peas and runner beans in his garden shed in Spring. We'd press down the compost and brush off our hands on the old tea towel hanging up on the hook behind the door. He'd label them all up and date them in his elongated capitals. I used to love the smell of the soil as I carried my pots back home in the car, and get excited as I put them carefully on the windowsill and could watch the seedlings grow. My Grandad loves his dahlias especially, and used to cut the flowers with long stems, wrap them up in newspaper and give them to my Mum to display in our home. Bright, roaring yellows, perfect pinks and delicate white blooms. Though he is now nearly eighty-three and my Gran a youthful seventy-nine, their garden is still blooming. When I'd reached their house, it had been raining, and though the sky was grey, the garden smelt fresh and looked beautifully dewy. I was eager to play with my new camera and so after I'd had a chat and a cup of tea, I tiptoed over to the sliding doors leading out into their garden, slipped on my grubby trainers and started snapping.