Self gardening discipline is a sheepish thing. Sometimes, on the most perfect of autumn days, it escapes out the gate, and blunders down the road, like a random ewe in search of - what exactly? A paddock with no fences? The perfect ram? The meaning of life? I don't think sheep worry that much about the meaning of life. And nor should gardeners, because it should be completely obvious to them. Isn't it?
Herd the mind!
Herd the mind! Block off any distractions. Make the body really big, and calmly, without flapping, steer that silly ewe back along the fence-line and into the yards.
In the Yards
Then hide the car keys (and the wallet) and make a jolly good list, hee hee. And here it is. You will notice that it encompasses a select few tasks, one of which is non-gardening in nature. This is perfectly OK, as long as muddy footwear is removed at the door.
Jolly Good List
- The bonfire : gum tree rubbish plus recent garden trimmings.
- The piano : Bach's Partita in C Minor, ALbeniz's Il Puerto.
- The hoe : try weeding the Welcome Garden with it.
Ha! This lot should tame the wandering woolly-headed beastie. And as a reward - a pensioner's roast at the country pub for the evening meal (but not roast lamb). A perfect end to the perfect autumn day, right?
A Successful Bonfire
I collected two loads of rubbish and one of Welcome Garden weeds - welcome to my weedy garden? Then - blast! A man came to fix the house chimney, so out of respect for his lungs I held off the bonfire. This meant I carted massively more loads stuff over, and eventually, when I'd burnt it all, there was no time for the piano. Honestly!
And then - wouldn't you know it! The pub was closed for a private function, so we went to a much more elite restaurant across the road where I had some delicious salmon on kumara rosti with spinach - and a very large glass of Merlot. I guess I over-rewarded myself, hee hee...
Sunday 23rd April
Oops. I've had a few garden-lazy days, with lovely house visitors, dog walks, and my jazz choir singing in a library concert (so groovy). And now I have 'Ole Devil Moon' singing away inside my head in a continuous loop. What a smoochy, sneaky song this is! Madrigals practice later this afternoon should put a stop to all that crooning, hee hee. And do you know what? I'm not going to start anything in the garden. Tomorrow, after swimming.
Monday 24th April
I've resurrected that 'Jolly Good List' for today, since I didn't really finish it. The trailer is in position to collect more rubbish out of the Hump, and I have new garden tools and gloves to use in the Welcome Garden. Nothing will stand in my way today - well, maybe a dog or two. Back much, much later, hopefully overflowing with gardening pride.
Winnie by the Island Bed
Now it's dusk, and all I can say is 'Yes!' I shovelled out the bonfire ash and dumped it on the fence-line to smother some weeds. Then I burnt the trailer load of mess collected from the path through the Hump. It's some years since I've done a good clean-up in here, so there are huge wadges (?) of gum bark, lots of leaves, and fallen branches to deal with. This all feels like gardening housework. There's just the tiniest visual improvement, and the knowledge that fifty times more rubbish needs to be shifted. The calculation - one a day, fifty days hard work - is not the nicest thought.
Oh well. Look on the bright side! The late autumn roses are absolutely beautiful. Such a contrast to the autumn colours in the trees high above.
Still searching? Ha! I found the remains of two scrapers in the bonfire ash - my beloved hand tools, handles burnt off. Which was balanced rather nicely with the unearthing of two intact hand tools from the piles of Hump rubbish.