Conflicting fortunes ...

 I mentioned in an earlier post my friend who wrote a doctoral thesis on Shelley’s poem Mont Blanc. He would disappear soon after breakfast and sit in the library chained to his desk, chewing on a pencil for about 14 hours, letting himself out occasionally for refreshments. When we caught up late in the day, he would often be really pleased with his day’s work particularly when he had written a fine paragraph.  More often than not, however, said paragraph would be erased on the following day.

This behaviour prompted a mutual friend to point out to us the warning penned by the notable wordsmith, Samuel Johnson, in the Preface to his A Dictionary of the English Language published in 1755. Johnson concludes paragraph 72 of the Preface as follows

“ … and that thus to persue perfection, was, like the first inhabitants of Arcadia, to chace the sun, which, when they had reached the hill where he seemed to rest, was still beheld at the same distance from them.”

I am sure that these sage words apply equally to doctoral students and to eradicating blackberries. When one has spent a whole morning whacking these bushes with a brush cutter, there is a distinct sinking feeling when one returns to find that exactly the same area remains to be cleared and no definitive progress seems to have occurred. I see a life unfolding in front of me in which I am dressed in protective gear and standing in front of a sea of never-ending blackberries, even though seeking perfection in their removal was never in the brief!

Far more satisfying has been Cath’s one-woman demolition job of the rather shonky fences around the cottage. Armed with her impact driver/wrench (of course it is the blue professional range – she does love good power tools) she set about dismantling things with abandon, leaving a pile of wire and poles for me clean up. I feel quite envious, as the area around the cottage looks a lot more open now and you can definitely start to see the construction of a garden happening sometime in future.

Tomorrow I am once again condemned to be chained to a blackberry thicket – hopefully not for 14 hours – with little to show at the end of the day. But I have to say there is some primeval joy in it, better by far than chewing on a pencil …