OI, CAN I BORROW YA FLAK JACKET?

YUP, it's been a mad, mad working week and I'm mentally and physically psyching myself up for the next round. I have no tips on ...


YUP, it's been a mad, mad working week and I'm mentally and physically psyching myself up for the next round. I have no tips on how one does this and can't say I'm that great at it, especially when there's no tangible end in sight. I was saying to Jodi this week, gardening is one way I switch off from the routines of work and family life and immerse myself in gentler, earthbound rhythms. Being in the garden is as close to waving my white flag as I get. Out there, people just let me be.

However, even in my garden there are signs of other lives, families, routines and daily grinds. I've worked these beds near on eight years now and still find remnants of the family that lived here before ours arrived. The third generation of that one family were all boys - four of them, I believe. I found one of their marbles and a toy soldier only last weekend. That tiny, advancing soldier might be a message from the past. I'm not sure entirely what the message is, but if it's to do with strapping on a flak jacket and yelling "Charge!" I'm already there.

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