Bulls on Parade


Promised myself I was going to do the rarest of things tonight: write my blog early and go to bed a decent time.

I suspect that shortly I won’t have much choice about sleep. My arms, back, and bad knee are still shaking from today’s exertion. The run of reasonable weather turned to a torrential downpour this afternoon, but I just had to keep digging through all that clay or else our sugar cane would die before I could get back to the section again. So I ended up as wet as if I’d fallen in a lake fully clothed. And still the edging didn’t get done. Driving home with a puddle in my undies was not very fun.

But. After messaging him for help, Rob turned up just as I finished – bringing a heaven-sent gift of a warm coat and a bottle of Powerade. And then he cooked me dinner. Well, cooked the salad I’d bought, but the thought was there.

Time for some relaxing, nighttime music…

Funny that this song is 20 years old now. It just makes me think that this is our Rousseau. Does anyone else feel like a revolution is coming?


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