More Like Logging Really

This is the wheel barrow full from just one rose bush. My Queen Elizabeths are over 8 feet tall. In anticipation of our trip (and to procrastinate from packing) I am hacking them back. There are three more. And then I need to focus on the other roses. Whew. I hope Boo will truck them over the bridge to the (burm) cuttings pile.
Kiri grows as we venture deeper into Harry Potter. Unfortunately Noodle Pie daughter is swimming at auntie's and then off to the Simpsons Movie with Grandpa. Thanks Grandpa.
So I need to put down the guitar and pack. I was practicing for a piece I did today in Gurani. That's a language of Paraguay. I wouldn't know that except I crapped out last time I tried to sing this piece and I was determined to get it off my nightmare list. Get back on that horse.
I think I got back on the horse too often as witnessed by my scars. But music I can handle and I felt a rush of relief from those who were tortured through the last brain fart.
Now I'll pack my flute. I'm doing well with my music theory study, too. It is so hard to keep off my feet. When I get restless, I can only sit in a different chair. Today it was easier to live with painful feet. Not good.
If I rest aggressively, I have no guarantee of healing. But I can guarantee I will have learned something, played something and knit something. Soothe my soul.