Eventually, as my fortunes improved and my son and my career grew, I sold my little starter home and moved on. The girl who bought the property fell in love with the garden and I'm certain it was the MAJOR SELLING POINT (as they say in the business). Time raced by and many years later I decided to take a drive out to the suburbs to see my little house. I am sad to report that it was gone. Bulldozed to make way for two Legoland townhouses. I checked the address. I even hyperventilated such was my discombobulation — perhaps I was lost? But no such luck. And what of the garden? Razed. Replaced with concrete pavers and ONE LARGE CONCRETE POT with something spiky shooting up out of it. Even the crepe myrtle who was a dear old lady and had never done anyone any harm, was gone. As Joseph Conrad would say, 'The horror! The horror!'. I sat in my car staring at this awfulness and cried. Steel yourself, Jen, I had to tell myself. Steel yourself, for life is change and all comes to dust. This is something you must get in your head. Look at you. You've changed and so has everyone and everything around you. Embrace change. Make change your ally. Yadda yadda. And then I had an even better thought — I realised that one day the lego townhouses would be rubble. Yes, they would! (And sooner rather than later by looks of them.) And maybe, just maybe, if the next generation was savvy enough the townhouses would be replaced with a park. Or a market garden. Or an urban farm dotted with crepe myrtles just for shade and splendour. Now imagine that! Oh, I felt heartened at that thought. I really did.
Have a cracking weekend, dear reader, wherever you may be. Plant something. Paint something. Read, bake, natter to a friend. Find some time to moodle — even if it's only for an hour. Free time is so grounding.
Yours in perpetual slow motion . xx