Jerryrig

The ipad doesn’t work smoothly with blooger, links and photos require workarounds. That’s fine, eventually everything I do will need to change. My back and now shoulder require adaptations, fudges. The garden is a process, exercises in figuring out what will work, seeing life as it is, not as I want it to be.

Science, at heart. Only magic and religion try to make the universe conform to little human ideals. Life is wild and far too complicated for philosophy. It’s all making it up as we go along.

I sit out by the bergamot, bee balm, to watch the bees. I chose it, planted it, but then it grows and attracts bees who have their own lives and reasons.

There is no plan, it’s all exploration and wonder, misery and failure, redemption and salvage.

Found Do It For Yourself with Mary Bellows, a strange little Canadian DIY show from 1982-3, that I loved. Made Dylan watch an episode, and he could totally see my attraction. I think she is the seed of my eventual love of gardening and fixing things. She’s delightfully inept, and yet capable. I want to send her a fan letter, telling her what she meant, means, to me. The confidence to make a botch and still call it good enough.

Perfection is both impossible and undesirable.

So much fun watching bumblebees on the bee balm.