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. Something about the enticing activity of ants at a picnic. Riveting, especially these days and preferential to most headlines.
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 in recovery. |
The upshot of all of this was tripping on a paver, keeling over, and spraining an ankle.
With the garden making a gradual return to its former fecund state, my car being fixed by insurance, and my ankle healing, I am seriously in the nothing much happens camp. .
