Beginner's Heart

Beginner's Heart


grapevine, blue zones, and everyday practice

garden2This is my unruly garden. To be fair, it’s mostly unruly because I forget it. I get caught up writing/ cooking/ drinking tea/ just vegging (and not the garden kind), and the day is gone. And I actually quite like gardening.

Well, maybe that’s not totally true. Sometimes — like w/ exercise? — I like ‘having gardened.’ War on grapevine definitely fits in this category. I HATE grapevine, at least in my garden.

This obviously isn’t grapevine. But since I spent much of yesterday & today wrestling w/ the blasted parasite, there’s only torn up places to photograph. While this view — of clematis behaving nicely — is far more enjoyable. grapes2

Still, as I try to look at my entire life as a practice field, I’m learning to value things I can’t stand. Like pulling grapevine out of the walled garden. An aside: the garden is actually walled like an English garden — sigh — but it is up high, w/ fence on three sides, and wall on the other.

Grapevine will NOT die. I’m sure there’s some kind of important lesson to be learned from that, but all I get out of it is that I have to keep pulling it out. Digging hasn’t killed it, nor has chopping it, pulling it down, nor ignoring it (that REALLY didn’t work).

blue squareSo I’m trying to see what lessons I can learn from these daily chores. Not (as I said), from the grapevine’s rampant growth, but from having to put my WHOLE WEIGHT into pulling on it. And no, I’m NOT kidding. I have grapevine (despite years of war between us) that’s 4 inches across!

This, I tell myself as I’m leaning into a hard pull, is blue zone activity. This is making me stronger. I’ll sleep better tonight. I still hate grapevine. But  I’m beginning to learn its  lessons, and every so often? I can see it as practice. These days, it ranks up there w/ my recumbent bicycle. :)



Previous Posts

the other side
You will notice, if you look at the picture, a dearth of men. There are the outlaws, w/ the exception of grandchildren, and a cousin. That's it. Mine is a family of women, mostly. We talk about 'the aunts' -- my mother and her three sisters -- and 'the sisters' -- my three sisters & me. My grand

posted 6:41:49pm Dec. 18, 2014 | read full post »

it doesn't have to be perfect (the enemy of good)
  Last night's dinner was brought to you by some obscure soup company. Canned clam chowder, w/ the addition of cracked pepper & white corn. YUM! Served w/ water crackers, & a side of tabbouleh

posted 12:59:47pm Dec. 17, 2014 | read full post »

of waiting, and childhood impatience
As I wrap presents, write out menus, email to find out who's bringing what to the holiday feast, I can't help but think of my mother. She was NOT organised, nor was she an organiser. Tell her what to do, and she did

posted 9:35:25pm Dec. 15, 2014 | read full post »

love (and happiness) like ribbon
Love is, I think, like ribbon. It's beautiful, for one thing (I adore pretty ribbon!). But it tangles, gets easily wrinkled and needs care to last. At the holidays, when I'm going through SKEINS of it, I find myse

posted 10:21:22pm Dec. 13, 2014 | read full post »

the curse of the holiday meltdown
All the ornaments are on the tree. The newest riff on the family tabbouleh is chilling, waiting for us to taste-test it after the flavours meld. The three packages needing mailing -- well, the ones that have arriv

posted 6:43:01pm Dec. 11, 2014 | read full post »




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