“Isn’t it the wrong time of year to prune roses?” said my neighbour, two weeks ago, as we both took our bins out. “Should I be pruning mine too?” he asked with the willingness of an eager apprentice. He is a long-time househusband. He has run his house and children and acted as a support person for his wife’s busy career as competently as any housewife could. However, he is not quite so happy with his garden. Although respectable, he says it is lacking in comparison with other gardens he admires.
“No, don’t prune your roses,” I said. “It’s still summer. It’s hot. It’s the wrong time of year but you know me; I garden by instinct.” Continue reading “Growing Success – writing”
My home of more than twenty years, where my three children had been loved and raised, was about to be demolished. The developer kindly said that if there were any remaining plants I wished to take, to do so. I had already taken what I could when the house was sold but, of course, I had to leave the garden in the lovely state that we had enjoyed for so long. Any gardener knows that gardens take many years to make. One cannot just plant stuff and presto, there is a garden. No; gardens have energy. Like houses, they become part of the energy field of the family living with them and, in particular, the person who has cared for them the most. Continue reading “Letting Go”
One morning, I was in my front garden, digging around and trying to bring life and order back to the lovely, old garden of the small, inner-city 1930’s cottage I had recently moved into. An elderly Greek lady, who I recognized from several houses away, shuffled across the road in my direction. With kind, shining eyes she started to speak. Her accent was thick but I could get the gist of what she was saying, particularly because every second word was either God or happy. She, by the way, was the embodiment of happiness. Continue reading “The Universal Language of Happiness”