Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Blair rang me when he was on his way home from work yesterday to tell me that all the "dead" vines in the Swan Valley now have green buds on them. We have argued all winter about whether the vines are dead or whether they are just hibernating for winter.
Blair insists they're dead.
I insist they're hibernating.
Until yesterday when he had to admit that they were, in fact, coming back to life. I TOLD YOU THAT.
Before we went overseas in March, I was a keen, albeit new, runner. I ran in the Color Run in February, a 5km race punctuated by coloured dye powder fights. Then we went overseas and I stopped running. I stopped going to the gym; cancelled my membership. It was cold and dark and I could not find whatever it was inside me that made me want to be active. As mentioned last week, I've signed back up at the gym although I am yet to actually attend any classes. My running is coming along in leaps and bounds. PUN ALWAYS INTENDED.
We've got little broccoli heads and potatoes coming up in the vegetable garden which fills me with pride and awe. There's even teeny tiny little carrots and beetroot. I bought a cheap bag of jonquil bulbs last month and stuck them in the front garden, expecting to see nothing from them until next year. I now have a bunch of creamy fluffy jonquils sitting on my kitchen bench, filling the house with their muddy, coconutty scent.
The sun now comes up before 7am. I know this because every morning it sizzles me right in the eyeballs just as I'm turning onto the main road.
Blair and I will be married in less than six weeks.
Soon it will be spring.