The alarm is no longer set for 5 am and my internal wake up clock re calibrates later and later each day (today was a, shock-horror-probe, 7 am start!!).
The fabric of the day shifts - no longer focusing on school business my brain shifts into physical labour mode (i.e. grubbing/ chipping thistles on Red Phoenix Farm last few days) and reconsidering how my media collection is organised (i.e. reordering DVDs into genres- erm - today).
Those thistles are a real pain - literally. Like anything there is yin and yang, good and bad: they were probably introduced to NZ as an ornamental plant (and our proud Scottish ancestry might have figured into the decision too), oh, and bees love the flowers. That was the good bit.
Ours have been sprayed and that killed the young ones but the established ones laughed it off. HAHAHA! We laugh at your puny spray Earthman!
Now I'm ripping them out with as much of their roots intact as poss just to make sure.
Every once in a while they hit back - the sharp thorns penetrate the gloves and give a needly reminder of their power to inflict pain. Yeeowww! Mother of pearl!!!
Only a few days into the chipping and I'm starting to see the blasted things when I close my eyes! Jeepers. It's like when I ODed on Tetris back in the day - my brain started looking for Matrix like patterns everywhere. Not cool Robert Frost.
Love and peace (unless, dear reader, you happen to be a thistle) - Wozza
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