Roots schmoots.

Last summer we thought about pulling out this tangle and creating a garden. I work at a garden that is also a museum so I was feeling very inspired. Mark is an astounding cook so we often buy strange and interesting foods. We are also trying to be committed to eating as much organic produce as possible. A garden of our own sounded like a great thing. But last summer it was too late to begin. We were told that we had to dig out the space and then add things to the soil well before we wanted to plant. So the plan was put on hold.

The idea came up again on Monday night. Tuesday morning he said, "So are we gardening today?"
So we gardened. We pulled and tugged and clipped and shoveled. By Tuesday night we had cleared most of the tall stuff. This picture shows some of the roots that Mark had to clear out. (I say Mark had to because I couldn't even lift the ancient cast-iron pick axe, let alone swing the thing. Yet another piece in my determination to become STRONG.) I did my part hacking away at the old rose bushes. DON'T feel sorry for them. At one point I was pulling on some tangles, stepped back, found a wire that had been strung up to contain the bushes some time ago, and ended up tumbling over until I had landed on top of the pile of brush we'd created. It cushioned my fall nicely - until I tried to get up. Those roses got their revenge & I look like I've been cat-o-nine-tailed!

So that's where we are at the moment. (Yes, Canadians, Mark is gardening in his t-shirt in this picture!!) And this is the view now out of our front door. If you stand on the ledge and look over the wall you can see down the road to the sea. I'll try to get some more shots of our village on here as soon as I can.

While I was working on Tuesday I got quite philosophical about roots - about people putting down roots, how important those roots are, blah, blah, blah. I thought about all kinds of lovely things I thought I could go on about on here. By yesterday evening I was cursing roots - cutting them and clipping them so the bloody plants would just come out of the dirt already. Today I am nursing my blisters, keeping warm in the office (it's -2 today!) and trying very hard NOT to think too much about roots at all. I guess the philosophical moment has passed. Too bad ;)

I tried to think about a quote that I could add here but I couldn't so I'll add one that I would like to have on my front door someday that someone could read after they walked through my larger, more groomed, and all finished garden:

"If you are a dreamer, come in. If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, a hoper, a prayer, a magic-bean-buyer. If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire, for we have some flax-golden tales to spin. Come in! Come in!" - Shel Silverstein (again!)