Today is a new day

Doesn't make it any better though. The youngest was awake for around half the night with teething issues.My husband is excellent with issues like this, as he takes him away to settle him elsewhere to let me sleep, but very often I can't get back to it.

I am living for the day when I wake up refreshed after a night's sleep. Actually, we both are. It's coming soon isn't it? Funny, with the oldest we were always a bit smug about his sleeping (oldest has always loved his bed and even now still takes afternoon naps, which is bliss) and now I feel like we are paying for this smugness. Karma rules.

Last night I decided to mow the lawns (we have a large on out back and a smallish one out front). My father-in-law, who we rent this house from, has let both gardens run a bit wild. I can see the method in his madness - let things grow if they like to grow there and conditions are favourable for them to. And conditions have been, well, favourable. To the max.

We live in a street full of mainly older people who obviously all like having tidy, uniform, presentable gardens (some of them have even been in a garden competition this year) and these people are retired, thus have a lot of time to spend in them. So our street goes; garden, nice garden with lovely flowers, garden with manicured lawn, garden with gorgeous rose bushes, JUNGLE.

My Father-in law has prided himself on his garden for a few years now. When asked what this plant, or that plant is he can name a few. But mainly (around 3/4 of the time)he'll just say 'I dunno what that is, but it flowers', which is his main criteria for keeping things in his garden. Nothing wrong with this, but I am not retired, I do not have time to lunch a lot of days, let alone lovingly tend the garden(s). Mowing the lawns last night has been the longest time that I have spent in either garden since we moved here a month ago.

I realise now that FIL has taken the minimalist approach to gardening; all of those times that we spotted him, mug in hand, surveying his land for hours on end, wandering from one tufty piece of lawn to the next uneven, heap of mud, I thought he was planning things. I thought he was looking at plants and thinking of tending them, or picking out the odd weed, or even wondering if he could be planning new border plants.

No.

It transpires that he was simply standing, mug in hand, jimmying around his lawn and looking busy.

As he has done with the rest of the house.

I had aspirations of making a veg garden for next year. I am hoping that everything dies back a bit so I can see some soil. But for now, my new trade is gardening. Hurrah!

(Just add it to the pile)

I am a little bit excited about taming the jungle to be honest. Like the house it will be hard work, but it'll be damn good when it's finished (is a garden ever really finished?)

I wish that I could look into the future and see how long we are going to stay here. I hate pouring my soul into things and then moving on - I've done it my whole life.

The question is, should I stifle my soul and live my life without it or take the chance that this time might be the last time I have to do this?

Fingers crossed.