weeding IS theraputic…….


I am a ‘can I go out to play’ sort of  gardener and also a very sweaty one and all together look like someone you would not like to met ANYWHERE at ANYTIME!  Because once the flies get going I also swear liberally and with gusto – but that is not the only therapy.  For when all the sweat and swearing has finished and you have a shower and scrub your filthy feet then make a nice cup of tea and your face has lost its drunken flush you wander out to see what was achieved.  A patch of nice clear rich brown soil planted with three lilies saved from imminent destruction in B  & Q.  I hope they will be part of a red/yellow/orange section of the border.  But the most theraputic part of this bit of gardening was digging and tearing out a plant I thought was rather pretty and has turned out to be an invasive, treacherous wicked fiend who tramples over all around and about and wipes them out.  But no more I now have its number and from now on it will NOT be allowed to wander far.    In truth I have gone right of the damn thing and will eventually get rid of any bits lurking anywhere!  So beware.

Yep, that little bit of brown soil is all I'm going on about!

Yep, that little bit of brown soil is all I’m going on about!

I’m not sure whether to write this next bit but its part of how it is.  As I ripped and dug and pulled out the roots of this plant, I thought of cancer.  My husband died of cancer and I miss that man almost unbearably at times  I sometimes wonder how I go on breathing but I do and will until my time comes.  So I garden with joy and sorrow for both of us.  He was a painter and I know his easel would have been outside all this wonderful summer and with great energy, skill and colour he would have been totally engaged in catching the vibrant days this sizzling summer has produced (and done a quick cartoon of his glamourous wife busy digging, sweating and swearing ) and both of us thoroughly enjoying ourselves.

If you are lucky enough to have a life you should live it as full and as honestly as you can – that is what I have to repeat to myself daily and I can hear Colin in my head and feel him in my heart just steadily willing me onwards and upwards.

What is your therapy for those hard days or do you just grit your teeth and hope the morrow will dawn with a brighter light.

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