Hiding in the Garden

I found myself a pleasant sunny corner of the yard and sat out there on my little portable garden bench and pruned a couple roses. This time I wore my finger braces and was mindful of putting down the clippers from time to time; I think I’ve come out unscathed. I’m trying to be bolder with my pruning, but bold isn’t my strong suit. I’d love it if I could do this first round and then have someone come in to critique what I’ve done. Truth is, the roses will grow no matter what I do to them. They appreciate a haircut and some food just like the rest of us, but they know what to do without my help. 


If it seems like I’m ignoring the state of the world, I am. Although ignoring isn’t really the right word for something that has permeated my whole being. I’m just going around sad and stunned inside, not able to comprehend what our country has become.