So, I’m coming out of the haze-of-work-into-inertia mode. I thought I’d tackle my patio yesterday. It’s been such a dry June and out of my window I could see the desiccated leaves of my limelight, the browned, skeletal remains of last years’ hydrangea blooms, the browning cedar hedge, flopping bamboo, broken terra cotta pots spilling soil onto the concrete, the curling edges of Sheila’s Perfume. The sheer work required made the task seem insurmountable but I knew if I didn’t start watering some of these plants and cleaning and clipping back I’d regret it. I’d put a lot of care and a pretty penny into this primarily perennial garden since I’ve had this place. If I let it go, I’d have to start all over again. More money, more time.
Three hours later and the garden was watered, the hydrangea clipped (probably not smart as there are some buds). More to do, but at least the leaves and pots had been cleaned up. I felt pretty good, I stood there, knowing the job was not complete, but at least I’d done something. It’s sort of my mantra right now – even if you can’t finish, start. One last little blob of dead leaves beside the limelight and as I swept it up I saw what looked like a tail, I swept it closer, and sure enough, a dead rat. Desiccated too…ugh. So I swept it back. After all, tomorrow is another day. Better yet, a task for the building manager.