I am so close to getting that little bit of the yard cleared. I worked on it this afternoon and that part is almost all border grass which is really a bitch to pull. While I was on my knees, I looked up startled to see someone standing on the sidewalk right beside me- a neighbor I've seen around. He's a friendly guy and we talked for a minute. He told me that he pulls weeds and I took his name and number. His name is John Henry Johnson which I think is one of the finest names I've heard in a long time. I should call him for some help. I need it. I think I'm afraid that anyone I hire might inadvertently pull some of the plants I want to keep. It's not always as obvious as that bed in the picture above where I wanted it all cleared out. In some areas I have about four types of invasive plants and five types of wanted plants and although I know the difference, I know it's not as easy to define for some people. Mr. Moon never can tell what I want pulled and what I don't so he's tasked with things like mowing while I do the get-on-your-knees stuff.
Harvey also walked by as I was working. He coughed so that he would not startle me and when I saw it was him and smiled, he told me that he'd done that on purpose. He's such a sweet soul. He said, "That's hard work!" and I said, "It's harder than it used to be."
All day it's felt like Sunday. I mean, I had to correct my thoughts on that matter at least twenty times. Days that feel like Sundays are not the best days. I don't seem to be having the horrendous Sundays I always used to have but I do not associate that particular day of the week with any sort of great joy.
Yesterday I felt content, which in my world is tantamount to joy. I felt pretty okay about myself and my life and enjoyed the simple tasks I did. I also read an article in the NYT's that I've been thinking about ever since. The title of the piece was "That Lingering 'Meh' Feeling Has a Name." It was about something I'd never heard of but, as sometimes happens, I recognized myself in instantly. The subject of the article was persistent depressive disorder, also known as dysthymia.
Have YOU ever heard of that? I had not but as I read, it was like a light snapped on and I thought, "Whoa. That's me."
The symptoms of this disorder, as listed by the John's Hopkins website are these: