All good intentions start well enough. I felt I had an epic amount of work to do this morning, so I left a little earlier with the grand idea of beginning work with time to throw myself into it. Then I slipped into work in what I consider to be just in time, having spent an extra fifty minutes more than usual on the M2 carpark.

I got what needed to be done, done. Then moved on with an extra knot in my shoulders and tension in my head.

I threw myself home after school and asked the little man to help me mow the lawn. There is nothing better to spur you on than a three year old chasing you around the garden with a wooden trolley shouting, “Cut the grass, cut the grass. You missed a bit. YOU MISSED A BIT!”

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After we turned off the ‘noise mower’, we stood under the last of the apple trees trying to fight against the changing season. This lone crab apple tree could not ignore the wind and the shortening days, and was beginning to drop its tiny apples. I remember how much work it was last year to get so little crab apple jelly. It tasted fantastic but seemed such a waste of time. Tonight I was reminded how wrong I was. How could it be time wasted if we laughed as we shook the trees onto big sheets on the freshly cut grass, letting the apples pelt us on our heads. How could the cold air in the golden autumn sun be a pointless time. The picking and reaching for stubborn apples untied the knots in me and I didn’t even mind that the little man stole some of our apples to feed the chickens. They probably won’t even eat the sour crab apples, but it still wasn’t a pointless thing at all.

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