I love this weather (30ºC), I've been waiting since October 2005 for my life to get started again. With the relentless sluggish depression that is known as S.A.D. lifting only a month ago — it is a hell of a wait.
With no money for a break in Spain for some "winter sun" — the only way to get some vitamin D is through synthetic means, as my light-box is only good for simulating the sun-up you normally miss in the winter, well it was a start — a shame it can't do more for me.
My beautiful garden is also flourishing: my raspberry canes are having a bumper crop this year — I've let it take up a third of growing space, and the plant has been fruiting for 5-6 weeks now, despite a drought here in the South East of England. These fresh raspberries make me so happy, they mirror of my mood this time of year — just as fruitful.
Because I can't eat a crop this large fast enough, I love being able to give them away , it makes me feel that my life isn't in vain, or that I am a waste of resources — my normal mode.
My bamboo makes a good screen in the no-fence area I call my garden, it is loving this sun, making all growths more solid and compact, and the shoots are so dry that they are crystal hard within a week of sprouting: whereas my abundant Honeysuckle has really taken to the trellis I put in last year, and its blooms produce that gorgeous highly condensed perfume in the evenings.
This weekend I was coaxed out of my valley to a highly genteel party in rural Cambridgeshire . . . Is it wrong to adore your cousins this much?
I suspect it is . . . I'd not seen these two women since 1998 in Vegas — I'd met them when I was 3, but then their family moved to Texas, then Arizona, then New Mex, then Nevada, and etc. The youngest with lots of tatoos, is a photographer, has been married three times now and has sprouted all kinds of children, lives in a tiny house and has the adoration of all kinds of her neighbourhood's waifs and strays. The eldest is a doctor in child psychology, and the epitome of Southern Charm School manners, she now lives in Evansville Indiana with her English husband who is employed as choir-master/composer for a large Presbytarian Church. If I wasn't related, I'd never've met these two wonderful people, hmm, well . . . at least we have some kind of link, because they are really special characters.
Note to self — must get out more !
3 comments:
I'm glad to hear your depression is lifting.
Wow, it seems that your family has covered the entire southwestern U.S. The bamboo and raspberry cane sounds delightful!
It is great to stop and "smell the flowers."
The other day I got a lump in my throat as I watched the sunset,--something I did not plan to do, you know, as in, planning to watch the sunset. That seems so contrived. It sort of just happened, I looked over and it was time........
The garden is the best metaphor, I've learned by watching how plants grow, how they affect each other, how to be patient.
I have to go out of my way to watch a sunset because I'm deep in a built up valley where the sun dips at least 3 hours before it sets, but they are great to watch.
When was the last time you watched a sunrise? Insomniac that I am, I often get into the car and find a vantage point to enjoy them — go on, get Mr Darcy out !!
I cannot ride Mr. Darcy until we move (end of this month). I got into a little beef with a raving maniac and come to find out he is in charge of the entire Military Base Complex (I will probably write about it after we move). So I am laying low, because the only way he can identify me is a woman on a (insert color) bike with a (insert color) dog. I don't want him to google and find this conversation. What a fucking ass, the bastard chased me (on foot) for over 30 mintues.
Post a Comment