The title of today’s “Simple Abundance” task is labelled: Secret Garden. Ms. Sarah Ban Breathnach tells of some lady (Frances Hodgson Burnett) back in the 1800s who had had some hot and steamy affair (trollop) with a much younger man (you go girl). As a result of the scandal, she sought refuge for 9 years (a bit extreme) and wrote three books and a play (I’m jealous).
I’m not seeking refuge for 9 years. I’d crave Burger King before the end of the first week.
But today’s message was one which encourages the reader to seek solace whenever necessary in order to compose thoughts and blah blah blah…
Sorry. Ms. Sarah uses sentences like: “Don’t forget to tend your interior secret garden, because the seeds that will blossom in outward expression are always first scattered within.”
When I read stuff like that, I’m like: ”I wonder what I’m going to make for supper?”
Bottomline though, everyone needs a place to hide out.
Done. My bedroom.
So following the advice, I’m hiding out in my “secret garden,” (don’t have to tell me twice!) when my husband, Wayne, calls out: “Sweetiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie!”
… followed by me rolling my eyes, groaning, and sighing. ‘Cause the way he said “sweetie” means I’m on duty. Sigh.
So long secret garden.
Wayne: I’m going on the roof to paint the top part of the house. Can you sit in the driveway?
… followed by me rolling my eyes, groaning, and sighing.
Wayne: In case I fall.
me: And if I’m in the driveway, I can, what?… watch you go ‘splat?’
Wayne: That’s caring and compassionate. Good thing you’re going to be a nurse.
… followed by him rolling his eyes, groaning, and si
me: Stop rolling your eyes at me, that’s just rude.
… he looks sufficiently repentant.
me: Just so you know, I’m not spending my summer months by your hospital bedside.
Wayne: Again with the compassion.
me: I’m just saying.
Wayne: I’m going to tie a rope to our bed and the other end will be tied around my waist while I’m on the roof.
me: ~hysterical laughter~
Wayne: No. Really.
me: And you want me in the driveway, why? So I can watch you dangle from the roof if you fall?
…followed by more hysterical laughter. ‘Cause really, picture the visual.
Wayne: You can call 911.
me: What if my bed breaks?
Wayne: ~dead silence~
me: Ok. I’ll spend the afternoon in the driveway. But bring up the Windex with you so you can clean the windows while you’re up there.
Wayne: ~dead silence~
And just so you don’t think I make this stuff up, here’s the rope tied around the leg of my very expensive sleigh bed.
Here is the rope going from our bed to the window outside which he was standing. Please remember I have four kids. Kids who run. Does this not have “Disaster” written all over it?
I have to give him credit though, as I was taking the picture, yelling out: “I’m going to put this in my blog!” he said: “What kind of silly thing are you going to say about me?”
me: I would never say anything silly about you.
Wayne: I think you should write, “He’s at the end of his rope.”