Sitting inside with my hat on

Inside my shoes my feet are sweating.

My socks have turned to grainy warm mud against my skin. Disgusting and yet strangely satisfying.
Earlier, back on the scythian chariot shearing the flowers from the capeweed infiltrating the oval. The vegetable patch and chook pen was wild.. The grass has been on steroids of springtime, water and chocolate compost soil. Its alive with worms.   It had to be cut as its time the snakes were out and its time we got the chickens out and the seedlings in.
I’ve still got my hat on, sitting inside in the silence. Tomorrow, I’ll do some more spraying in the morning. The weeds are taking over. Like triffids – they’re on the march. Tomorrow,another day, another day closer to Myanmar.