What am I?
Today I tried a new approach. Asked myself the following deep question : what exactly was I? Was only allowed three choices. The next step was to be each of these three things. Answered self : a gardener, a piano player, and a reader of books.
First I played Rondeau by Albeniz on my lovely piano. Realised that, although I am slow, I do actually play every note Albeniz wrote. Felt rather proud of this (it's a virtuoso piece). Then I zoomed off to the library. I came home and gardened for four hours - trimming and clearing behind the Stables, taking loads to the bonfire, burning everything. Two Jaqueline du Pres roses have died - out they've come. Sorry about that. My huge reference gardening library book reckons she is extremely robust. Oops. Have cleared mess out from around all the pink Hellebores. Now, more visible, they look very pretty. Heads down shyly, but not a problem.
And now I am going to clean myself up, wash the smoke out of my hair, and so on. I've had a very self-affirming day. Everything I am I've been, so to speak. Plus two extras - a friendly, chatty dog-walker, and a photographer of Camellias. Nice!
Pink Camellia by House
Thursday 18th August
There is a fatal flaw in this 'What Exactly Am I? approach. Suppose it's a dreary morning and the energy levels are sluggish. Then my three answers could be as follows : a lazybones, a moocher, and a Facebook feed scroller. And then I would have the most dreadful day!
Deep Pink Camellia
Friday 19th August
Ha! Today the three things I am are : a pruner, a trimmer of ornamental grasses, and a bonfirer. Nothing else. Have delivered seven barrow loads to the bonfire and burnt the lot. Am feeling rather ploddy and stiff, but very happy. No piano playing - fingers are having a rest from using the secateurs.
A couple of random comments about my animals. Speckles the stray, AWOL for the last seven days, turned up last night several sizes slimmer. His attendance is becoming quite hopeless. Then each time I start checking underneath the hedges for him (deceased), he pops up very much alive, hisses, eats all his food, and leaves. Not the most rewarding of cats I've looked after. Probably some secret tom-cat business.
Today both Winnie and Pebbles are black and yellow Border Collies. Their throats and noses are a mustard yellow, suspected to be poo from the pukekos (swamp hens) living on the property. Black and green would go with duck poo, black and brown from cow. Rude dogs! But Winnie did spend the afternoon providing me with gardening company - and not too much barking.
Tinsie and Plantation Pink Camellias
I have to wheel my barrow past the Camellias flowering at the back of the garage. Tinsie (so pretty) is still going strong, joined now by an unknown red and Plantation Pink (which I reckon is the most beautiful Camellia in the world). Camellias can be blobby, static green shapes for so many months in the year, but when they flower I am so glad I grow them. They are full of heart-warming promises for spring.