My Garden ~ a Kiwi's take on life

"I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills," William Wordsworth

We’re coming home ~ and welcome back to My Garden

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Himself and I are returning to New Zealand after an absence of two and a half years  while living and working in Al Ain in United Arab Emirates. It’s been quite the experience. So many sensations and soon to be memories. In the time we’ve been in UAE, I haven’t gardened – not even one pot plant.  I haven’t blogged. I had enough of being on a computer at work. Instead, there have been places to see. People to meet. Life to live beyond work. Shopping to do in Dubai. Arabic culture to enjoy. Al Ain is a city with a remarkable history of ancient people who first lived and farmed here thousands of years ago. Al Ain is a city of oases, of public parks, of trees and of date palms. So I’ve been content to look at gardens in our travels,  to listen to Emirati voices from the past tell their stories, to learn and marvel at the miracle of  the greened swathes of desert. Water is so scarce and so precious, I’m staggered at the determined effort to irrigate on such a large-scale. Meanwhile, a world away, news from home always seemed to  be about some storm or floods and heavy rain. Water in excess. I have learned to live with the desert dust and extreme heat. Soon enough, I will face the frosts and pull on my gumboots to slosh through our soggy paddocks.

Wonder how my garden has been without me? Do I really want to know? Will our cat remember us?  I know Turbo Toddler (can’t really call him that now as he’s nearly five – and here’s a thought, will we recognise the grandkids after nearly three years?) kept a close eye on the cattle. Did Number 2 Son ever pick up that trowel? At least it will springtime and I can view the fruit trees in blossom  with fresh eyes. Time to re-think the garden perhaps. Time to write up those travel notes. Who knows. Things have a way of happening at the right time – like finding my spade among our things we put in storage.  Above all, it will the best of times catching up with our family.

Author: Jenny

A few years ago when I began blogging, I was in awe of the creative, the witty, the informative, the insightful posts by writers on WordPress. I was challenged by my son to write, to set up a blog, to expand my garden diary scribblings. Never did I think from scratching and grubbing in my garden dirt would sprout words of reflection, thoughts about life lived as I know it. My garden is where I lose myself, or as Himself likes to tell others, I lose either my coffee mug or wine glass. Well at least I do put them on a gatepost so they are easily found. Always, there's something to write or chat about life lived as I know it. I have a certain sense of amazement that my blogging community is expanding. In a previous life, I once was a teacher. A four-walled classroom is an artificial construct. When thirty or so teenagers with diverse learning needs filled the space, the more I listened, the more I observed my students, the more I learned. They had stories to tell, to write of things that interested them. Luckily for me we embarked on amazing journeys of discovery and learned together. Some say a lifestyle block is a no-lifestyle block. We like being able to grow seasonal food, to enjoy fresh air and open space. Himself and I thought we had retired, about to define this older stage of our life together, but family commitments continue. And so it another phase of discovery happens as I share this place with Himself, son and grandsons and a menagerie of living creatures who rule the roost.

One thought on “We’re coming home ~ and welcome back to My Garden

  1. Hi there, Jenny!

    I found your blog but not you 😦 I’m surprised that you haven’t blogged since your return, but then again, I know how extremely busy life can get with family. Family along with many other things have a way of sidelining one’s personal plans. Anyway, I’d sure like to hear how things are going for you and yours. Please do drop me a line when you are able, insha’Allah.

    Miss you over here, by the way!
    Laura Krause

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