Garden Pleasures

Oh indeed, the pleasures of other people's gardens. Karen Moline in
NYT Travel Style Magazine sums it up wonderfully. I often find myself more relaxed in other people's gardens, quietly sipping an iced tea with no thoughts of mulch pruning or raking. It is a sad state of affairs that we can become so engrossed with our work that we don't take the time to enjoy what we have.

Let's make a pledge today to let the trees grow, the roses fade and the weeds jump, if only to spend a little time in the garden simply sitting and thinking...or maybe just sitting.

Be well!

(Note: Journalisimo is a wonderful site about fine pens, papers and the joy of using both. Worth a visit all on its own. -- Douglas)

Writing in Other People's Houses

I only knew that the house and grounds felt enchanted. The garden was ablaze with old roses. My many guests and I climbed nearby Templar ruins, stuffed ourselves with cabecou and cherries as fat as Ping-Pong balls and drank vats of plonk while waiting for the nightly parade of sheep in front of the house. The sheepdog yelped and nipped. The shepherd followed his flock -- in his car. Then we watched the bats circle in the endless twilight and agreed that there was nothing more relaxing than sitting in someone else's garden, unfettered by the obligation to deadhead the roses.

(Via Journalisimo | Back to Analog.)