Long walk for a short temper...

Wednesday 29th May, 2019

So....I expected that my first blog would be about the love of flowers and all things fairy tale. If this is what you are expecting, my humble apologies. Instead, to my dismay (with a dash of narcissistic tendency), I find myself wanting to escape to a distant past, where life was nowhere near as complicated as the inner workings of my now aged and stubborn metabolism.

Working with flowers enables me to have access to free therapy. When the desire to spout an uncontrolled amount of sarcasm at someone ("who just doesn't understand me!"), gets too much, I can often lose myself in work or inhale an insane amount of lavender. But sometimes, despite the emotional healing properties from a scent, it takes that little bit more to turn that frown upside down.

Growing up in a Caribbean household, I was deeply offended by the suggestion that my face was "long like a banana" whenever I was in a mood. I would automatically deny such allegations an feign ecstatic. Fast forward 20....odd...ish years later, a few more grimace lines along the way and I find my tolerance levels are at an all time low.

Lately, however, I have taken to self medicating on walks through the woodland, and it works a treat. It's that heady combination of just rained on damp fern, moist moss and fungi, followed by a heavy note of stacked logs in the background. Halfway through my walk when the endorphins kick in, I find myself saying "morning" to everyone like some hyped up squirrel. I just can't help myself. I politely move over to the side whilst joggers jog on by, and I greet every dog running towards me with open arms. I stand by the lake and remember why I love Barnet, it's green spaces, and the lure of a long walk to cure my 'occasional' short temper.