One gardener's observations, discoveries and random thoughts whilst simultaneously worshipping and dallying in a Cape Cod garden. "A garden," said Ralph Waldo Emerson, "is like those pernicious machineries which catch a man's coatskirt or his hand, and draw in his arm, his leg and his whole body to irresistable destruction."

Icy Saturday



I had originally thought that I would spend some time Friday night unpacking some of the recently moved boxes, so as to bring the empties back to Eastham for reloading.

But by the end of Friday, there was really no energy to spare. I was thinking just illogically enough to know which six boxes I had to visit in order to set the bathroom up for a nice hot shower, before collapsing in front of the television before falling into bed a little while later.

Morning came quickly and after a cuppa joe, I got to work doing some unpacking and then heading off to Eastham to load up some more stuff. Temperatures had dropped into the 20s and stayed there on Saturday, so the driveways were a bit icy and tricky to manage, even with four-wheel drive.

Still, I was able to get another big truckload delivered to Harwich before needing to head into work for the night’s festivities there.

When I got home around midnight, I discovered that Owen had found the box containing our Christmas inflatables, and they were dressing up the front of the new house, along with Granny’s Christmas ball.

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