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“The worthy wild gardener whose compost, newts and log citadels trump the patios and poisoned begonias that populate adjacent plots.” This could be me… never one to conform, never one to blend… and why should I, or your mum? Who wants more normal anyway?

This is wonderful Melinda and reminiscent of my thistle pulling… I am about to begin round two! Some jobs just hurt… plain and simple but damn they are worth it in the end!

Sending a cooling hug for your poor back, I hope there was no lasting damage..xx

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This was probably twenty years ago. Although I'm not sure my back ever fully recovered!

Yeah. Normal is a non-concept. No such thing. Trying to impose "normal" on someone else is just a way to get them to conform to our own fear of being judged.

One thing I am very grateful to have inherited from my mum is her love of wild gardening and wild spaces.

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Love this story!

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Love reading your stories Miranda, thank you for brightening my Sunday, as always. Only thing that's missing - a photo of the finished Citadel!!

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I wish I had one, Emily! The one half way down the article is the only one I can find. I must have a photo with it in the background somewhere ...

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Love this - it’s slightly unnerving, surreal, and eccentric ✨

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Thanks, James. Yeah, "eccentric" is a word that used to come up a lot in relation to my mother. It's an identity she was always very proud of.

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Feb 18
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Absolutely! I'll take a wild garden full of insects and birds any time.

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