I am beginning to realize that there is no way I'm going to have time to actually work in the garden everyday, write about it, get in the meditation and exercise that I'm also embracing and make a living and be the volunteer queen. So, I may not get to the writing part, but rest assured I am out there in the elements, moving my body, getting to know the natural world around me, and staying closer to my spiritual home base through all of this. I just might miss a few days of blogging now and then.
It is getting easier all the time to leave the computer chair and grab my gardening gloves. My body craves it, my spirit demands it and so far my affairs are in as much order as they ever were and my joy is on the rise. So I'll keep opening my arms to it.
The army of bamboo that has been marching closer and closer to the house has finally gotten my attention. That stuff is relentless. My ultimate plan is to yank up the roots all the way to the back line of our property, dig a trench, fill it with cement and try to hold the line. I love the privacy that it provides, but I hate its aggressiveness - what a bully. I hope to work with it because I don't think I'll ever be able to get rid of it completely. Besides, my good friend David loves a good outdoor project and has offered to lend his wisdom, guidance, sweat and back to the cause - so bring it on.
I'm trying to cut it back enough to even see the dimensions of our yard and what we're dealing with. It's easy enough to chop down, but then I have to cut it up into smaller pieces to shove them in a brown recycling bag. I've learned that it is ten times easier to do that when they are freshly slaughtered and still green. If I let them lie around for a few weeks they are dry, brittle and much harder to deal with (hmmmm....sounds like my hair in menopause). So, that's been my project this week. I spend an hour and you can't even tell that I made a dent in it. I try to remind myself that it's all about the journey and not the destination; easier said than done.
This picture gives you a sense of it but doesn't capture the enormity of the challenge. The prone cedar tree is a story for another day. As you can see, we don't have a perfectly manicured suburban lawn. You know my theory - as grows the garden, so goes my life. You should see my nails.