As proof of how our family line is made of hearty genes
we’ve got a favourite story, if you’ll let us set the scene:

Our great-great grandma Annie, on our mother’s father’s side,
(and before you ask, we’ll have you know, this story’s verified)
was a-baking in the kitchen on a wintry English day,
in her tiny stone-built cottage which still stands beside the way,
not knowing that her coming child was due that very hour
while the other six were playing round and asking for some flour.

Well, the oven was a-warming and the kneading almost done
when the heavily pregnant Annie felt a change within her tum.
She gave a word to tame the little children running wild
and lay before the fireplace and birthed her seventh child,
a baby girl called Margaret, and then the story’s said
that Annie walked back ovenwards, to go on baking bread!

I came across a suggestion of going for a “Haiku nature walk”. I’ve never truly understood the appeal of Haikus, as they tend to end just as you get into them. Nevertheless, I appreciated the idea and so took ten minutes to visit our office gardens. Here’s what I found hidden amongst the greenery:

1. Haikus belong here / in a garden with fountains / where white ripples sway.
2. The first bench was drenched / in a shower of sunlight / but the second, shade.
3. Some Agapanthus… / or are these Christmas roses? / I always forget.
4. The waterlogged grass / has a tinselly shimmer / til summer passes.