Yesterday I spent the best part of the day out in the garden, tidying up what has over the last few months, become overgrown, burnt (after Sydney's heatwave) and badly in need of some TLC.
I find gardening very satisfying, enjoyable and therapeutic.
I love it.
I started gardening with a passion more than a decade ago when my husband and I bought our first house together. I would spend every free moment out in the garden. Tending, transforming, nurturing and watering.
When we bought our current house I took it upon myself to landscape our front yard,
taking it from this, in the November of 2007
to this by February 2008.
I spent the next few months scrounging around our property, looking for bricks to use for my piece de résistance, the circular path.
By June it looked like this
Yes, I did manage to find that many bricks lying around!
I did all this predominantly on my own, with two small children often pottering along beside me.
To say I was proud when I had it all done is an understatement.
Gardening during those early days in this home was all I had to help me hold onto my sanity.
A little bit of me, the old me, before I had two children. Before the ups and downs of being a stay at home mother, with children who often needed visits to and overnight stays in hospital.
But as always, times change, things change.
Stresses and health improved and I learned to be comfortable in my skin again. I discovered blogs/blogging and reaquainted myself with some crafty persuits.
The garden continued to grow