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It is nearly done, excepting the installation of the cobblestone circle (which was delivered yesterday) and about 10-50lb. bags of black granite, which is what you see immediately above. I have also an edge of exposed concrete block I need to cover somehow.

The image above is the entry to the garden on a slope; except, is it really a garden (in the traditional sense) any longer given the paucity of dirt and plenitudinous of stone. Ask me if I care.

No. I don’t. I like it, and I will have yet another place to sit and rest, and do little other than contemplate my surroundings, or transcendentivly meditate myself into a state of nothingness when I actually have the time to do such things. It does happen to be the case that I have an awesome wireless signal in the center of the future cobblestone circle, which I’m beginning to consider as my own personal Stonehenge, and I’m thinking that the psychic energy is such that it might be a great place to work on my laptop, on my novel, on consecutive evenings darknesses, broken by the muted glow of thirteen low-voltage lights, each¬†powered by green-friendly 3-watt LED bulbs.






















Although the stairs are incredibly level and stable, I’ve still managed to stumble both up and down them for some reason or another. Probably because of not paying attention, looking for a roll of electrical tape or wire cutters or something else desperately in need of, apparently whisked away by one of those little borrowers of childhood fiction just now remembered.

The black granite in the beds is nice, but dirty. It’s only black now because it was raining; when dry, its gray; but if I clean an individual stone of its accumulated dust, it is black. Maybe I’ll take a power washer to it next spring, although that’s uncomfortably close to “maintenance.”


By the end of next weekend, it will be done, if God wills it.