By Maryanna Gabriel
The other day I was talking to my grandson, and he referred me to a podcast entitled "Nothing Much Happens". I laughed, then listened. Happily, it put me to sleep. Very peaceful.
It occurred to me that the doe breaking into the garden might be pregnant. Judging by the state of my booby traps, she has made three more attempts, none of them successful, thank goodness.
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| Apple tree slowly recovering. |
I live in a relatively peaceful and unpopulated part of the world, which suits me just fine. The other day, a ferry worker, late for her shift, drove into me at a billion miles an hour making a turn and, for some mysterious reason, was looking the other way.
The upshot of all of this is that I tripped, keeled over, and sprained an ankle.
With the garden making a gradual return to its fecund state, my car being fixed by insurance, and my ankle healing, I am seriously in the nothing much happens camp.