Am I odd, Yes, I hear some of you, I know doesn't matter.
Have been known to have a chat with a good looking tree or two.
Well, Why wouldn't you.
Have been known to apologise while pruning.
For your own good, better for your health and wellbeing.
Yep, those plants understood.
Yes. well you know I give verbal praise to all bees and butterflies.
As you should.
Today as I stepped back onto a patch of nettles.
I muttered Oh Whoops, I am sorry, as they bit me on the butt.
I was taught to be polite, as we all should be.
Or am I just plain Odd.
The knee high boots have long gone.
The mini skirt layed to rest.
Laps past the Town Hall Dance, to check out the talent.
Back past the coffee drinkers, down past the pub.
All so long ago, all part of the past.
But, no this old girl is still cutting laps.
Down past the Lemon scented gum, up round the Hakea.
Lap after lap she can cut, round and round she can go.
The mowing here goes on forever, and ever
But so do those memories of long ago.
Yes, this tonic is working its magic right now.
Playing Xavier Rudd in the garden, Yes it understands his lyrics.
Peace, harmony, unity of the planet.
Yep, went along to watch and listen, dread-locks swinging in time.
No, not my graying locks, others bopping everywhere.
Was I the oldest there, well I thought not.
I spied another with looks of fading youth, I wasn't alone.
Whoops, he was an Usher, I didn't really care.
Waved my hands, I stomped along with everyone.
Calling play, Spirit Bird or Follow the Sun.
I didn't care which one. A Man with vision.
Please listen to his wisdom, help our beautiful planet.
While we still have one.
Yes,I say "Hello Beautiful", quite often.
No, not in front of the mirror, saying how damn cute am I.
Don't get all ego-eeee, well I could be proven wrong.
No, don"t say it to the Other Person Who Lives Here.
That's more Hunkie Hansomeness, Brownie points to me.
Notch them up, whatever wayI can.
No, I say "Hello Beautiful" to every Butterfly I see.
I don't know why you wouldn't.
They are all beautiful you see.
Who planted this here garden, Who let it get this size.
It spreads from here to there and further out than that.
Perhaps I need a Unit, a bit of gravel and a pot.
But then I might retire, somewhere down the track.
Then what would I do to fill my time in.
Maybe, I'd get domesticated and even want to cook.
Perhaps I'll keep the garden, and keep really,really fit.
Yes, when I slapped this little gadget upon my wrist.
It took one look at me, and thought itself on easy street.
Perhaps a little wander and amble here and there.
But it didn't know my secret, I had a Victa hiding there.
Well, we go for miles and miles.
We push it round and round.
That FitBit has had a rethink, it is not sure at all.
It has its digits zipping around really really fast.
As she mows and mows and mows.
Yes, the mowing season has begun, there goes my life for now.
The digits on the FitBit are flying round and round.
The digits on the end of my feet are saying,
"Quite enough for now,"
Your namesake is flowering beautifully.
Sweet smelling and so nice.
I like your flowers Oh! so much, they really are a sight.
Now Miss Violet, you are just as sweet and twice as cute as them.
So will I ever get into your good books,
Will I always be known as evil, and not so really nice.
I know your are only One year old,
It's so hard being the bad Nanna, I must really look a fright.
If I try really hard, maybe one day I will get it right.
Love you Miss Violet, xxx
