Mother told me often Every cloud has a silver lining Given time, all things turn out well After being knocked out in the sixth round Looking up, I could see stars, no silver lining On that occasion, mother said my brains were addled Count your blessings, she said with a kiss Every occasion comes easy to mother Ringing in my ears has me wondering On Sunday, I found her outside Sitting on our porch in floods of tears Getting the truth from her lips Is like breaking into Fort Knox Gettysburg says everyone has the right to the fifth amendment Asking mother again, thinking she had taken it in silence Never one to wash her linen out doors Today was no different, apart from the tiny squeeze on my hand Enough for me to know she had an answer in mind Undermined by Sonny, my brother, mother Sat crying, tears I could not stop, please send a silver lining…
Throughout this tree’s 12 years of training, I have photographed and documented every step in detail, to study the cause-effect response of each technique applied, as well as the timing of that response. One thing I have learned is that candle-cutting in summer should be done about 100 days before your area’s average first frost. This gives new growth time to grow and harden off before winter, but not so much time that needles get too long.
Summer candle-cutting is the removal of this year’s growth, right down to the base. It leaves last year’s growth in place, so basically it makes the tree look like it did in March before it started growing.
Continue reading another fascinating post from Brian at NEBARI BONSAI...
“Plans are only good intentions unless they immediately degenerate into hard work.”
Intentions are weird things, aren’t they?
But between making up your mind and getting around to doing anything, a whole world can and usually does, interfere. Leaving us wondering why we bother in the first place.
So many jobs (or at least the intention) have fallen by the wayside lately. Most can wait and the sky won’t fall on your head, but there is usually at least one that if not done, will have dire consequences.
Cutting the grass in our jungle of a garden is one of these. If I allow the grass to grow unchecked, it could be waist high before I know it and my ancient mower won’t be able to cope.
With this knowledge foremost in my mind, I intended to cut it last night once the sun had set, and coolness had returned. Not only didn’t the sun set, the heat showed no sign of abating either. I was already suffering from the heat and the thought of all that hard work nearly sent me into a proper meltdown.
That’s when Anita (the voice of reason) had a brilliant idea.
‘Why don’t you cut it in the morning before the heat builds up?’
So, that’s what I did.
By nine thirty this morning, I had finished, cool as a cucumber and considerably smug. Even the sight of all the new bramble growth couldn’t dampen my spirits.
I could hear the urgency in her voice The scream for help I try to make my way towards the sound The road became steep I could see headlights in the distance Like fairy lights, merging together The bushes closed in, the way ahead Became impenetrable As if walking through a liquid nightmare It is human nature to try and help The maniac scream was beginning to sound As though someone was having more fun than they should What had started out as urgency Had become pleasurable Oh, how fickle the human mind…
It is 7.30 in the morning. The air is still, and cool compared to yesterday, and the only sound I can hear is the repeated and annoying call of a wood pigeon. I counted twelve that time. It is 20 degrees already and we have been promised another hot day. Parts of the UK have seen 32 degrees in the past few days, something I have not enjoyed at all.
My swollen feet and ankles look like hobbit feet, and the arthritis is running riot. I live in a cotton nightdress and cannot bear to get dressed. Cool showers only work for a few minutes and drinking water makes me feel like a ripe peach, about to burst.
Torrential rain and thunderstorms were forecast for parts of the country, and you guessed it, nowhere near where we live.
Anita cannot stand the heat either, and is really suffering. Every day the angina attacks get worse, yet we have not heard from the hospital about the plans for a new treatment. Lockdown might be over, but it seems to make matters worse, not better.
On the work front, I am trying to keep busy in between moments of desperation and complete despair. What’s the point has taken up residence at the back of my mind, and ignoring it is becoming a full-time occupation.
To give my brain something else to bite on, I am trying to switch our subscriber list from Mailchimp to Mailerlite, as I have heard good things about them. For some reason, they just don’t like my email address so not getting very far with logging in. Stubborn is as stubborn does, so they say, so today I will try again. If your hear a loud explosion coming from the south of England, you will know I failed spectacularly!
I am also reading David Gaughran’s free course ‘Starting from Zero, to try and improve our marketing. You never know, we might even get around to doing some, once the dust settles…
This Book Funnel promotion ends at the end of the month, so thought I would mention it again. My book CrossFire is taking part and so far has been picked up well, so thank you to everyone who now has a FREE copy!
Standing on the rainy train station A row of pigeons sit silently watching her Worn out suitcase by her feet I could hear the distant rumble of the train Soon she would be gone Her gold fingernails flashed As though caught in sunlight. I raise my glass of wine Part of me knows I cannot sign the contract that would keep me here. She is my force majeure. She takes the train to Eastbourne. I leave my friend holding out his pen I cannot do it, Don. I have to rush I must follow her. I spend the journey wondering how I would approach her Do we ever know if the decisions we make Are in our own best interests? The unsigned contract might come back to bite me One thing I do know, she is the girl I will marry The rest I leave to the universe…
I watch the train recede The distance swallowing it like an old film Fading into the next scene A dream being played out Yours, or the film makers, you cannot tell Frame by frame the space before your eyes Fills with images you would rather not see The old shed holds the secret Again, you must win The small gold chain you wear Has become a lead weight You let your mind lead the way As you lean against the warm wood of the old shed you refrain from pulling the gold chain from your neck, as you touch it, you feel protected Let the game begin…
I remember when I had wings Before Earth became my home When days were young I had not yet leaned that time is my enemy A parasite, my own personal stalker Stealing moments of my life Memories slipping away Turning my steps slower Empty space in mind Filled with strange thoughts That do not belong to me. I feel I have twinned with another mind Maybe one day, they might tell me who they are I have learned many things in my latter years That I never thought to put to mind Mind, like an empty room Has space for so much more Why did I not know this when I was young When time was still on my side? I feel like a greedy child There is never enough of the things you like The heart and mind, wanting more Wandering from place to place Still looking for that special something That eureka moment that tells you nothing really matters All thoughts turn to dust Only the moment holds the charm of life…