Smoking Weeds

Weeding.

Weeding in the rain.

Weeding the lettuces.

Weeding with love.

Weeding the strawberries.

Weeding alone.

Weeding on Tuesday.

Weeding in the sunshine.

Weeding before lunch.

Weeding raised beds.

Weeding shallots.

Weeding carrots.

Weeding in my rain boots.

Weeding in the cold frame.

Weeding parsley.

Weeding for the next four months.

Weeding after lunch.

Weeding with an attitude.

Weeding with a hoe.

Weeding peas.

Weeding with Chris and Thomas.

Weeding in the mud.

Weeding on my hands and knees.

Weeding beans.

Weeding through plastic covered beds.

Weeding leeks.

Weeding in a big straw hat.

Weeding chard.

Weeding on Thursday.

Weeding broccoli.

Weeding cabbage.

Weeding in the greenhouse.

Weeding in my sleep.

Weeding with the flamethrower strapped to my back, smoking those weeds to oblivion.

So, that has been my week. Friday afternoon we are taking off early and heading into New York City, about a four/five hour drive from here. It’s been over two months since I’ve seen the skyline, heard the subway screech or hugged some very dear friends. I’m looking forward to catch-up conversations and simply being with people who love me so well.