When I was a child I wanted a Scalextric set. I never got one. When I was grown up I bought one for my children and played with it. It never lived up to the dream. It did not make me Stirling Moss/Lando Norris.

Later I wanted a degree. In my forties I went to university and got a degree. I don’t know what it was supposed to make me, but it didn’t do it. I was still a gardener. I think it’s all right being a gardener. The last emperor of China became a gardener after he was emperor.

Wanting things and having things are different states. What I am trying to learn is how to have what I have. The picture this week is of a winter aconite. I planted it, and others. I brought them from Louise’s mother’s garden. I have a dream of a carpet of winter aconites under the laburnum tree. I have tried to establish them before. They are rather reluctant to spread. Only time and some other unknown factor can make it happen. This morning I looked out of the kitchen window and saw a second one. I ran out to get a closer look. It was not there. I went back to the kitchen and looked again. A yellow leaf, maybe. What makes a yellow leaf a disappointment?

There is a joy in one winter aconite and that joy is with me. Maybe a carpet will form, maybe not. There is also a joy in the wanting!, not sure about the waiting!

One day earlier in the week I was feeling very low. I had not slept well and in the night, in my imagination, I walked around the garden counting the different plants. I counted ninety. So in the day I went out into the actual garden and made a list. One hundred and fifteen different plants – and the winter aconite had not yet appeared. So one hundred and sixteen! And there are more. It’s only January.

Thanks for reading, thanks to some unknown person in Singapore who read it last week, thanks to Nancy for telling me this morning that she enjoyed reading it, thank you all.