Bundles.

Up with the dawn and finding it hard to to rid myself of the idea that I have to be productive all the time. There is so much that needs to be done. Where to start?
I pruned a plum tree. Instead of leaving cuttings on the ground, or burning them, I cut them up and made twenty, tidy little bundles, just for fun. They will come in handy to light the wood burner next winter, if I am still alive and kicking.
While doing this, Sofia and Franco stopped for a chat on the way to their land. 
As I saw them at the end of the track, it occurred to me that I probably looked terribly scruffy, early in the morning, hair sticking up, huge, old brown jacket and welly boots, but they actually  looked much the same, dressed for work in their vineyard, on this chilly winter morning.
Later I hurredly painted a metal door and before I knew it, it was time to clean up and go. Just as I was beginning to get the hang of having fun.
Up the noisy gravel track, stick in hand, in case I meet some nasty dogs on the way, past the two friendly horses, I dragged myself to the bus stop on the main, country road and waited, since I am always early and the bus is always late. 
It always comes hurtling round the bend at top speed. I  have to wave a bright orange bag to attract the driver's attention. 
Next time I will stay an extra night and leave early in the morning. There will be students at the bus stop, I will feel safer and the bus will probably be on time.

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