“It is not the critic who counts, it is not the man who sits and points out how the doer of deeds could have done things better and how he falls and stumbles. The credit goes to the man in the arena, whose face is marred with dust and blood, and sweat. But when he is in the arena, at best he wins and at worst he loses, but when he fails, when he loses, he does so daring greatly.”
I take this as a call to get out there, get busy, start doing things, – even if it ultimately fails and doesn’t work out.
Not that my efforts have the scale and grandeur of the gladiatorial arena… not at all.
Decidedly on the humble end, I’m referring to planting a vegie patch and doing a small embroidery!
The planting is helped by the responsiveness of the garden. It’s high spring and little surprises are coming up all over the place. The orchard is holding fast, my inexpert pruning seems to have worked.
The most wonderful thing are the irises. I planted them all along the path at Easter mixing in some lime to help make the soil better. A full basketload of bulbs, a gift from the owner of the Southern Highlands home featured in the blog Bumble at Home. It wasn’t known what colours they would turn out to be – a mystery. But now it is revealed; a magnificent deep purple, somehow Victorian era, and a delicate, iridescent gold.