Today we dug a hole
and filled it back in.
Then I wrestled with bindweed and Himalayan blackberries, buttercups and lemon balm -- all clearly in control of the landscape. It's no longer a garden, but I'm wielding my machete and I intend to show it just who's in charge.
It used to be a lovely hidden garden. One year I inventoried the different types of flowers in bloom at one time and the count was in the 80's. That was a former life. A last-century life. Not one of us still inhabits it.
More culling in the kitchen, more combining of oils and vinegars, of unsweetened cocoa and unbleached flour, of rice both white and brown. Every project I undertake is woven into several other tasks simultaneously. So this afternoon it was drawer/closet/cupboard/another-cupboard/more-drawers: emptied, scrubbed, arranged & rearranged.
So often we are past the pull-date, every one of us.
Let's all recycle, now, every last cell in our sack of skin.