A long and wildly (some might say overly) productive one, this Sunday. We had a brilliant morning at Side Project Sessions, our second event and some new friends to meet. I love the space at Enough, and the feeling of supporting others to get things done.
By the afternoon I was back in the garden though. My father and brother came down to help me build my new shed, which I am sorry to tell you is still sitting under a tree in the corner of my yard, a third finished - we need more time and more light than the late day was offering. I spent the last of the evening weeding again. This seems to be a theme, a constant. I filled two green bins and have more I want to tackle. There’s a lovely satsifaction to that kind of back-breaking work, and I’ve been endlessly bookmarking pages and plant names in my two new favourite bedside reads, Australian Dreamscapes and A Garden Can Be Anywhere. It’s slow, many more seasons of saving and planting and growing and building (raised veggie beds are on the long list), but I love it. I have been pouring over Olivia Laing’s pictures and keep thinking of the Leonard Woolf quote, when Virginia calls him in to listen to Hitler on the radio and he says ‘I shan’t come. I’m planting iris and they will be flowering long after he is dead.’