Sheba is, I believe, healed. It’s good to see her walking without limping and her energized spirit.
I, on the other hand, feel frustrated by the plateau I seem to have reached in my effort to lose weight. I’ve had such a wonderful rush, losing so much so quickly, that this pause is a disappointment. (I’ve lost no weight for five days in spite of no variance in my strict dieting.)
By nine-thirty yesterday morning, I was tilling. It was cool and the air was fresh; it felt good to be back at it. Except for one aspect of my process: I hand pick the many large pebbles from the debris I bring to the surface and pile them around the plants. It involves a lot of bending, first to pick them up, and then to place them in an orderly fashion around the base of the plants and trees growing like the area I plan to seed.
It was hot and tiring, but progress was constant. I keep thinking about how the vast new back lawn that gives me so much pleasure this year, began with the process I’m doing now last year. I also think about how lovely it will look to have grass growing around my fruit trees (instead of weeds).
I got the whole area done! Then I had a spa and took Sheba for a nice long afternoon walk. It felt very good to have the garden task behind me. I celebrated by returning to the village for Feta cheese with which I could make myself a huge and delicious Greek salad for dinner.
I went into the area I’m leaving to next year to do and when I came out, my socks were absolutely covered in burrs and Spear Grass seeds. And damn; my weed whacker won’t work until the new battery arrives in three weeks. So, I have to mow that area today, to ensure the Spear Grass seeds don’t get into Sheba’s paws.
But first, we go on the big community dog walk.
|A pop-up theatre of hay bales.|