Today we spent the day at the allotment with my parents and made some inroads into the Spring digging.
I am ambivalent about digging. In some ways it is like cleaning; it's easy to put off, and when you get around to it it seems like hard work; but the end result can be beautiful, clean, pure.
There is nothing more wonderful than a freshly dug piece of soil: it is full of promise, heaving with potential, ready and waiting for all your ambitions and hopes. I love it.
But...it does take some hard work to get there, and just like cleaning the house there is a little part of you that knows, deep down, that this moment, the moment of clean, the moment of weed-free, the moment of pure is only going to be fleeting; you know that you have to capture that moment, before something pollutes it - the weeds, the dust, the grime, the children {g}. But...it is lovely just for that little moment...
Soil, glorious soil...
Contemplating compost bins
We promise we wont interrupt your soil moment, Mummy.
First signs of Spring in the beautiful soil:
my Welsh Siberian Bunching Onions and broad bean shoots.
1 comment:
I know what you mean....my veg patch looked lovely when I did it the other day....shortly befor ethe new puppy squeezed through a gap in the fence and ran about like a mad thing.....ho hum
And is that why I have made no effort to clean and tidy the house while the boys have been away? Due back today and now there is definitely NO point at all.
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