I've been a bit cross lately. I've grumped in the journal and glared frostily at the dogs. Really! Living in my wonderful garden with knees and hips that still work OK. I need to reconnect to the grid of human happiness.
It might be timely to remind myself what my rules of life are. I need to do one random act of kindness (at least) each day, and to give thanks every hour - for something and/or everything.
Paul Transon Rose and Delphinium
And I must enjoy my garden - smile at a rose (the pretty flowers, not the black spots on the leaves) nod at the trees that give me summer shade. Spend my rest time sitting on a garden bench with drink, dogs, and snacks. Let my bare toes enjoy the feeling of lawn (careful for the bees). Pick flowers for the house.
Enjoy shifting the hoses and bucketing water on the Pittosporums - be thankful that there is no water shortage, and that the Pittosporums (a sheltering screen on the boundary) are growing so well. Turn all my gardening tasks into positive, thankful experiences. Make weeding wonderful? Hmm...
Personal affirmations :
I love my cottage, plus a whole host of other things and people (too many to list here). And my Advent Piano Calendar is going well. Each day leading up to Christmas I pick out a Bach Prelude and Fugue and a Chopin Nocturne to sight-read. There are so many of the Bach pieces that I've never played. And fugues in five sharps are a little challenging...
Sunny Lawn, Snoozing Dog
My latest garden photographs look green and pleasant. The roses bloom on, even in the hot weather (hot for us - about thirty degrees Celsius).
No more Naughty Dog Days...
The fence I built is finished (it stops the dogs going next door, so I don't have any more Naughty Dogs Days). My water pump is still working - pity that the lawn mower broke yesterday, mid-mow. But for once it wasn't because I'd left a sharp hand tool in the grass.
Claude Monet (a rose) has survived his shifting and is flowering again. Several once-flowering ramblers (planted against trees years ago) have been noticed flowering. They are all very similar, with smallish white flowers. But not as flamboyant and fat as the Rambling Rector on the rope swag - now there's a rose with MUSCLES.
And I'm spending minimal money for Christmas. Gifts from the Charity shop, no fancy booze, etc. For example, I have bought Non-Gardening Partner a pair of socks - his Christmas present - for fifty cents.
Goodnight Henri Martin
So it's evening, and I've drunk two large glasses of my summer concoction - boysenberry cider, cheap white wine and orange juice. Sentimental gushing alert! Am starting to feel a bit 'loose', mentally speaking. Best I toddle over to bed. Say goodnight to that dear moss rose Henri Martin, who loves me so much (because I bucket water on him each morning and night).
I am reconnected to the grid of human happiness.