I’ve just returned from a week in the forgotten wilderness of Tasmania. Since Monday, I’ve been hacking my way back to civilization and I have the bruises, scratches and broken fingernails you would expect from such a masochistic sojourn. Who knew what was underneath all that overgrowth!
Well, that’s not entirely true but it seemed so. I spent at least 20 hours this week trying to reclaim my little courtyard which had magically converted to wilderness from lack of attention and three years of extreme laziness – not to mention the heat. It was a sort of secret garden to which I could escape the cares and tedium of life and find peace in an often scary world.
Those stones were completely covered with wisteria up to 20 feet long and wild vinca which is a bane to existence as far as I’m concerned.
Sometimes I think serious thoughts in that garden, but mostly just putter around with no real purpose except extreme enjoyment. By George, I think I’ve stumbled onto something which after my big break up with Netflix is so much more rewarding.
Above is my all time favorite garden tool. Does any one know what it’s called? With every swing of the gizmo I put another step on my Fitbit and released every frustration.
I still have a long way to go to get my private space back to its former tidiness but I’m about halfway there and feel like all’s right with the