One of the best things about moving to this spot on the globe is the beauty of the morning run. Arry, Alice and I head for the dirt track that leads up through the vines into the woodland above where the view never fails to disappoint. The reds and golds of Autumn spread across the landscape below but it is the peace that gets to me. Apart from the occasional tractor humming through vineyards, the only sounds come from me puffing and the dogs’ collars jingling as we weave our way up and down hills. Despite the physical torture I put my body through, I love this time where you can forget about the world and its troubles for an hour or so.
Even though I rarely watch the news these days, there’s only so much Covid one can take, it was difficult this week to deliberately avoid the US election. Tony never let me watch any important Liverpool games as he said they always lost when I did so I decided to take the same approach towards the Biden/Trump saga. Oddly enough, I felt very agitated by my decision as though the outcome would affect me personally but I stuck to my rule so you can all thank me later. As my sister said, I wish Pop could have been here.
With all of the above, I don’t think I have ever been fitter in body and mind. I have to thank the garden for most of it, it has done wonders for my once stressed out brain and I have muscles in places that have never seen them before. Now that the majority of the rubbish has been cleared and a sort of design put in place, it is almost time to leave the plants and trees to do their winter thing. There are still a few bits to be dug up from L’Horte and replanted here but my energy now has to focus on the internal renovations, mainly painting the bedrooms. My initial enthusiasm over choosing the right colours to fit the theme of each room has waned somewhat with the endless rolling of undercoat paint. Layer upon layer has been applied to rid the walls of the awful blush rose tint and my arms are aching. I would like to add that trying to balance pots of white sludge whilst straddling a ladder does not calm the mind. Watching paint dry (literally) has to be one of the most boring parts of renovating and I’m already missing being covered in dirt. I shall have to think of a garden project that will occupy both myself and the dogs over the next few months, perhaps start digging the pool? I’m sure Arry can help with this, he has already designed a few possible watering holes around the lawns……
“Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt.” (John Muir)
Widow plus woofs 