Will I Ever Learn

My husband jokes that I don’t have a work ethic. I just don’t have a stop button. He may have a point.

We’re house sitting for his mum at the moment. Whilst she’s away I offered to do some gardening. As you know she’s  moved and inherited a garden that, whilst is not a jungle, does have areas that need some work. There are borders that need weeding, plants to be dug up and bushes to be tamed. I am more than up for a challenge and even added a task of my own. Digging over the area the size of a modern town house that is covered in weeds. Oh and did I mention I was still working on samples and commissions?

The sharp readers will immediately spot the problem. I did not.

Fortunately the British weather stepped in to stop this foolishness by turning up the temperature and making it too hot for me to work. I’m a delicate skinned Celt. To me, that thing is the sky is a fiery ball that drains me of my strength and power. I slapped on the industrial strength sun block and scowled at my foe.

My plans had to be revised. This caused me some anxiety because I felt I’d failed and let my mother-in-law down. As my targets slipped further away, I realised that the fact we’d done anything was good. The fact that I was still knitting samples and commissions was pretty incredible. So today I shall be finishing the gardening. There’s just 11 bags of green waste to take to the local dump and then I will sit back and admire my work.

I’m not sure I’ll ever find my stop button, but I have found “pause”.


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