Weeding the Garden

This was taken last Tuesday night. You can tell it's "band practice" and not "music night" because there's no booze cans on the table. As you can see, Ziggy is delighted. Elenwe took these and then she left on Saturday. Her reason for leaving was work related. It's a long story, and not mine to tell, but she was shat upon by her employers in a very sleekit and underhand way. I could really empathise with how she felt from my experience of working in Thailand when I had less than perfect employers. I told her I would give her a couple of weeks grace with the rent to give her time to find something else but she was deflated and disheartened. I knew how she felt.

She is in London now and has found a job already. We have left it open that she may return one day even just for a visit. I enjoyed living with her very much. Not just because she was a girl but because she was my kind of girl. She sang around the house, she adored Ziggy, she joined us on music night, she was arty. It was just dead nice having a girl to hang out with.

When I first moved into this flat I developed a rather unhealthy addiction to polishing the bed with brasso. I have a similar addiction to weeding the garden. It was an overgrown jungle and the weeds roots are giant. I could be doing this using appropriate tools but instead I use a plastic trowl that cost 33.33333p It occurs to me when I do this job it isn't about getting it done in the most efficient way possible, it's about being mindful of what I'm doing. I find it therapeutic and it's also kind of like a metaphor for untangling and removing the weeds in my own life. My momma will be so proud of her green-alien-salad-fingers girl, the one that once said "I remember when we used to be happy, now all we do is talk about clematis"