No paid work, perfect Labour Day weekend weather, and a bed-bound child recovering from surgery left me no option but to busy myself in whichever area of my garden was in the sun. I ignored lunch to win my war on weeds in the swampiest corner of my little patch of earth. My garden is based on the simple presumption that if I plant it, it might grow. In my garden, I could directly affect a physical space with fewer unknowns and an addictive amount of freedom. Just a few more sleeps until next weekend when I can improve my emotional intelligence by shifting those orange thingies nearer to the clothesline.

Source: Stuff November 03, 2019 16:07 UTC