Gardens and Bathrooms

I have a theory that WordPress looks at titles and grades them as good, bad and indifferent. I think I may try to Jazz mine up sometime, maybe. I am approaching a milestone in this years writing. It’s only April and I am just 56 hits away from all of last years total, woo hoo.

I’m writing something for a friend at the moment, they will probably read this. Its been interesting looking at what I think they want from a piece of poetry. Something simple, open, biographical? I have a piece of work that is still progressing through the fight. But a question occurred to me of how much we see and know of those around us, especially our friends. I have taken an idea and gone about my business to give them something that I feel works for them and me. But what if I miss the mark? This will be a new horizon. Writing to something that someone else has an idea about. And I have taken it and written.

In my notes, I have under the heading of perception “What can I write about you, that is not of me?” That set the cat loose so to speak. Version five is well under way, My wife thinks I am overdoing the rewriting. I won’t know until I pass this to its intended. I’ll let you know how that goes.

Back though to my title, gardens, Saturday and the forecast here was for heavy rain from the south. Not a usual direction for here in the Auvergne, we get Northerly or westerly wind. But the Jet-stream has shifted. Two days ago we got sand laden rain from Africa, the car now needs cleaning, not my strong point. Today was a warm gusty wind, so I got out and hit the garden hard. Those Dandelions and Nettles never stood a chance, I then chopped wood for the fire, pandering to my male sense of providing for the family. The French say wood heats you three times, once when you cut down the tree, once when you chop the wood, then finally when you burn it. I would add that it also works when you move it about. We have to get the design for our garden sorted. I haven’t hunted anything to death yet though to put food on the table. Instead this week I am bathroom building for a friend and neighbour, I hate plumbing. Electricity is fine, if you make a mistake, BANG! Fuse, shock, smoke, maybe a burn or two. šŸ™‚ Water, leak, goes everywhere. Ruins everything, you don’t find puddles of electrons running out of a plug socket do you? Much easier in my mind, it’s my own fault, for being able to do DIY. I still hate plumbing.

Self Portrait
Self Portrait

What I want is a garden that doesn’t keep going all the time, I want a moment when I can press pause. To stop it as it is and enjoy it without having to hack about cutting and bashing and not sitting enjoying the view. I have resigned myself to the fact I will not be allowed to Astroturf the garden and use plastic flowers. I thought it was a good idea.

Fluffy weeds, before the strimmer
Fluffy weeds, before the strimmer

Finally, another short poem. For anyone struggling to get out.


I have the answers
to your questions, the snappy
comeback, the last laugh.

More from the journey of a lifetime soon.


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