November 21st, 2004


The therapeutic powers of grist's garden

Yesterday was an angsty day. I accidentally whacked the sensei at aikido with a wooden sword. Well, he said to go for the throat, but I never in a million years thought I'd actually get anywhere near it. I spent the rest of the session going 'I don't want to hurt you' and being a wimp, until Big Russian Guy said *best Russian accent* "You cannot hurt me". I tried. He was right. It didn't help that I couldn't twist his hand properly because mine wouldn't reach all the way around his.

Other stuff happened. Upshot being that I went to bed feeling upset, and woke up this morning with the desire to kill, maim and destroy. Luckily for me I have the perfect destruct-o-toy right at my back doorstep. So, after 2 hours of ripping and tearing, I've uncovered another retaining wall and my spot under the peach tree is giving me visions of picturesque plantings of wildflowers and herbs. And I feel better.

Everyone should have an overgrown garden to take out their upset on.
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