![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
All in a day's work...
Wowsa...four and a half hours working on the circle was done by the hubby, while I clock in somewhere at the 3 hour range. We managed:
1. to set up the strings to check the circle (yep, its still twelve feet across)
2. get another few feet across smoothed out (its sort of gibbous shaped at present)
3. delineated where the path flows from the Garden Gate, outlined by driftwood pieces, around the south side of the circle and flows upward around the circle to the NE Gate.
4. made some tough choices as to which of the driftwood monoliths go where.
The best part of the latter decision-making is its done from underneath the pavillion, sitting on adirondak chairs. I cannot express how important that factor is given I spent much of my time on my knees (no snide comments, dearies) while I either picked up rocks (from the rock pile next to the circle) then moving them to the spiral circle out front, where I kneeled some more in loose rock (ouch) to set up another circuit. I'm never quite sure WHY I always end up putting rock out in the circuits during the hottest portion of the day while the sun beats down on me, but there it is. One thing I'm learning about spiral walks - the farther you get from the center, the more work and time they take and the less interested you get in expanding them!
"I feel a bit like an anthropologist as I move around the circle, dodging the hubby with his shovel and rake, as I pick up rocks, bits of beer glass, a squirrel skull (not quite sure on that one) and various other flotsam and jetsom that our yards collect over the years. At various times, when I sit down to load up my rock wagon, Glory will come over and lean against (completely drawing a halt to anything I'm trying to do) me companionably and I'll whisper nonsense in her ears while I load rock and laugh at my husband mouthing the lyrics to "Take Me On" to his MP3 player. Only my husband can make "Take Me On" play like a hard rock ballad.
And about that - yes, I talk to my deaf dog. She's not completely deaf, so I'm never sure just what she can hear and what she cannot. And, frankly, it seems rude not to talk to her like I do the other dogs."
Ahh, well, long post and its time to get dinner over with so I can start preparing for everyone's arrival for the 9pm Full Moon Ritual tonight.
1. to set up the strings to check the circle (yep, its still twelve feet across)
2. get another few feet across smoothed out (its sort of gibbous shaped at present)
3. delineated where the path flows from the Garden Gate, outlined by driftwood pieces, around the south side of the circle and flows upward around the circle to the NE Gate.
4. made some tough choices as to which of the driftwood monoliths go where.
The best part of the latter decision-making is its done from underneath the pavillion, sitting on adirondak chairs. I cannot express how important that factor is given I spent much of my time on my knees (no snide comments, dearies) while I either picked up rocks (from the rock pile next to the circle) then moving them to the spiral circle out front, where I kneeled some more in loose rock (ouch) to set up another circuit. I'm never quite sure WHY I always end up putting rock out in the circuits during the hottest portion of the day while the sun beats down on me, but there it is. One thing I'm learning about spiral walks - the farther you get from the center, the more work and time they take and the less interested you get in expanding them!
"I feel a bit like an anthropologist as I move around the circle, dodging the hubby with his shovel and rake, as I pick up rocks, bits of beer glass, a squirrel skull (not quite sure on that one) and various other flotsam and jetsom that our yards collect over the years. At various times, when I sit down to load up my rock wagon, Glory will come over and lean against (completely drawing a halt to anything I'm trying to do) me companionably and I'll whisper nonsense in her ears while I load rock and laugh at my husband mouthing the lyrics to "Take Me On" to his MP3 player. Only my husband can make "Take Me On" play like a hard rock ballad.
And about that - yes, I talk to my deaf dog. She's not completely deaf, so I'm never sure just what she can hear and what she cannot. And, frankly, it seems rude not to talk to her like I do the other dogs."
Ahh, well, long post and its time to get dinner over with so I can start preparing for everyone's arrival for the 9pm Full Moon Ritual tonight.