Just plain mad.
the Dogs
Forget barking mad. Gardening mad! Have just been for frosty morning walk in orchard with dogs. Am ill-clad for outdoor activity, wearing pyjamas, gumboots, and the woolliest of old-lady shawls. The orchard roses desperately need pruning, so I start doing just that. My shawl tangles in the thorns.
Digitally dangerous...
Am not wearing gloves, and roses are digitally dangerous. So I decide to sit down and lop off some hazel tree suckers. Damp bottom. Quite cold (it's just past the winter solstice). Too silly.
Have made myself come inside, drink a strong coffee, put on proper winter gardening clothing, and find longer, sharper loppers - and gloves. It's all very well to flit around like a winter botanical fairy, nipping this and that, but crikey! Mature people with head-colds (me) should have learnt something by now. Spending too much time with my dogs, perhaps...
Much Later...
Oh boy. The more I think I've learnt the more I still have to learn, and all that. It's so easy lopping and chopping big rose pieces and hazelnut tree suckers. It's fun. But gathering up and transporting the mess to the bonfire takes ten times as long, and is not easy - and no fun at all. Then there will be the bonfire, which I am heartily sick of. And where is my little bow saw? I need it to saw off 'the big bits' (it's about time I did a major trim). It is lost (its remains are probably in the old bonfire ash).
Coconut Ice Roses
Now I have to go to a meeting (too bad about the dirty fingernails, will hide my hands). When I get back home my good work can continue. I can be realistic and finish that which I have started. The winter solstice bonfire can then symbolise my close re-connection to the earth, and I can dance around it gleefully (avoiding the rose canes). Hmm. More likely I'll be raking up gum leaves to get it going properly.
Parkdirektor Riggers Roses
Later...
OK, I did my best. Today's mess is burnt, but no dancing. If I could do this for seven hours tomorrow, without getting annoyed, stopping, or wandering off, I would definitely get somewhere. If I could find my bow saw, that is...
Next day...
Another pruning session - only four hours, sorry about that. Minimal satisfaction, though. Trouble is, I seemed to be taking more canes off the roses I'd already started on. Coconut Ice (pretty rose) is now looking severely trim. What to do with Parkdirektor Riggers? Nothing much I can do. Never believe a rose nurseryman who sells you this rose for an archway. Love his bright redness and robust health, though (the rose, not the nurseryman).
Anyway I burnt my mess, pruned some more suckers, and burnt them as well. And then, for a reward, I lit the log burner and played through my Prokovief piano sonata - a lovely, quirky piece. I got it sounding quite nice, so thought I should have a listen to some proper pianists, just to check the tempo, and the nuances, etc.
Ma non troppo...
BAD MISTAKE! Since when does 'allegro ma non troppo' mean 'Go really, really fast! As fast as you can! Faster! No, even faster! Be the fastest! Show off how fast you can go...' Interestingly, this seemed to apply to all the men pianists. Phew! I found a 'pianistess' who was happy to let the music speak, sing, march, and dance allegro ma definitely non troppo. She confirmed that I am on the right musical track, so to speak. Yeay!