They say it never rains, but it pours - and we have certainly had a few downpours over the past couple of days. It also seems to be one of those times when everyone is having problems. I think I've had my share. Huge bills, an illness in the family and boiler problems (yet again) all adding up to a stressful time.
When the sun came out briefly between rain storms, I decided to get out into the garden and hack away at a tangle of honeysuckle creepers and blackberry bushes threatening to take over the patio. It was tiring work, but remarkably therapeutic. I felt much happier after half an hour of ripping out brambles.
I guess I'm the kind of gardener who prefers cutting out dead wood than gently nurturing delicate flowers.
I was wearing thick gardening gloves, but they were a bit too big for me and I had to take one off to properly handle the secateurs. Doing that, a long bramble thorn pierced my thumb. It stung, although only for a moment.
Then, a big drop of red blood welled up and fell to the earth. It felt strangely like some sort of blood offering - but not one I minded giving. My garden, my home and my family are things for which I am happy to sacrifice my blood, sweat and tears.