I feel like I owe you an explanation. Several, actually.
I’ve been busy. But more than that, I seem to have lost my voice. Or maybe I’ve lost my train of thought, sprawled recklessly off its track with weeds growing up through the axles.
What started me blogging was a perverse lack of passion for anything at all. An apathy for life itself. Blogging became my antidepressant. And like an antidepressant, as it heals, seems less needed. The patient forgets to take the dose, or self-prescribes a weaning-off.
My work, the work they pay me to do, requires more thought than my old position; more creative thinking. Unfortunately, leaving me with less available to me in my leisure. So instead I create with my hands.
Remember my hugelkulter? As promised, I am sharing its progress. I’ve now planted in it — bush beans and cilantro and pepper plants . . .
A Salad garden was built and is already being harvested . . .
The rain garden has been dug out and native plantings are going in . . .
A path was laid . . .
A stepping stone was made . . .
The lawn is being taken over one small planting at a time. Iris and catmint and clematis along the fence . . .
Cardboard, compost and mulch create a no-dig garden, ready for planting this fall or next early spring . . .
Planters and feeders . . .
Herbs . . .
And plenty of volunteers to help . . .
(volunteer petunias greet my guests)
I promise I’ll write soon. I know what I want to say, I just can’t put it to words right now.
Peace . . .