Saturday in Midlothian is sunny. I have to drive W to the hospice for drugs to be administered, but W's well enough to suggest a combined trip to the garden centre I've been mithering on about getting to.
"Hospice" and "garden centre" as a trip is not designed to delight the cherub, but, hey, we've got him and old Jock dog in tow too.
So it's sunny, and W is well enough to walk around the garden centre with us. We stock up on border plants to fill up the hanging baskets, a fuschia to fill up the gap under the front window. At least ten minutes are taken up deciding on a colour scheme for spring bulbs. This spring we'll have a riot of pink, purple and white. And daffodils and tulips by March.

Hey - look, we're having a family day out. And it's fine. Even if W isn't going to see the daffodils. Sometimes you just enjoy it while it's there.