Hallo again. Yes, what you see here are pictures of this morning's labour (and I do mean spine-shattering effort, which will be playing havoc with my comfortableness for a while yet).
You see, having bought a house with a garden is all very well, but the trouble is, it's spring now, and not only do I need to mow the lawn, I have invested in a few implements and some items of a plant-like nature.
I am being discipled by the excellent John & Mollie Oldfield in digging, sorting, composting and re-potting, and hope to revive my rubber plant and keep the new purchases alive for a week or two at least.
Check out the telly, as well, with vast leaves emerging from behind. I am very pleased with this set-up.
So you're looking at a frame I have constructed for the tomato plants, alongside the growbag of spinach I'm laying hands upon.
And then there is a blackberry bush (kind of) and another, which is destined to produce either loganberries or frustration.
And the front garden is destined to get the full-on herbaceous treatment, in the fullness of time. The fuschia's looking horticultural.
On reflection, it does seem slightly odd to have planted soft fruit bushes under a bird table, as encouraging sweet/fruity growth in the same location as encouraging avian visitors seems somewhat in conflict. As does establishing slug-lunch at such cost. But that's just the start of the battle, I'm guessing.
Who knows, all this could lead to spiritual growth, illustration and physical health. Meanwhile, I'm enjoying the process of learning, being trained and discovering new things about myself. All morning, as I dug through thick, cloying Midlands clay, the tune of the The Great Escape was playing in my head.
Meanhile, church life continues. I feel very settled here, knowing already one or two of the purposes for which God has uprooted me, having prepared the ground and fitted me into me-shaped spaces. See, the gardening metaphores are starting.