I kept thinking about my orange tree. But after I'd tried on a couple pair of new jeans, I did start to see that my current worn, faded, dirt coloured, stained by wood stain and hems half detached from the legs pair of jeans, probably should only be used for planting trees.

My birthday's not for 2 months, but the sales are on now. My mum can't resist a good bargain.

Still, I'm quite proud of myself for actually opening my mouth, since I cried my little eyes out when I had to sing by myself in music in grade 5. My mother had said somewhere along the way that none of us could sing and I believed her. I've had an absolute phobia about singing in public ever since.

There's no time to get bored in a service when we're all relying on each other to sing every part.

I've covered my celery with clear plastic and held it all down with old pavers, a dead tree fern and a concrete tortoise.

I've watered my brassilicas, the ones surviving the bug attack, peas, celery, silverbeet, camillias, rhododendrons, and anti dog herbs with seaweed extract.

I've dug in my wheat and mustard.

Now it's 6.30, dark, I stink like seaweed, and it's time for hot chip sandwiches for tea.

Good day. I love gardening. (Who would have thought?)

I've taken some canes from pruning the pom pom tree and made a little dome with them over the celery. That's helped a bit too. Maybe it was possums eating my plants? I might tape some plastic to the canes and turn it into a green house.

We've planted a couple of different varieties of Banksia plants along the fence too. It does mean that when they grow there will be no more veges in that patch of sun, but it was time to block out the neighbour's ugly shed. It's just a bit too painful to be reminded every time we leave the front door that we used to chat through the fence (It's a 10 cm wire grid - very open) to our lovely old neighbours. Now, despite being in the exact same demographic as our new neighbours in almost every area, age, stage, religion, interests and job, there's no chatting through the fence any more. There isn't even any waving in the street. It's very sad. Should I care at all? Do I just feel rejected? Or maybe grieving loss of connection and community?

Well, I'm very glad that the weekend is here. Now I can sleep in, and get up and garden. If it's not too cold that is:-)

I've started writing morning pages. It's from the book the Artist's Way. Every morning, write three pages about absolutely anything. Just write, "I don't know what to write, this is stupid" for three pages, if that's all you can manage. It's supposed to be about unblocking blocked artists. It certainly helps get a lot of stuff out of my head. But not to write those articles - I guess it takes more that just getting stuff out of your head. It possibly requires sitting down to actually do something.

My tooth is infected and as much as I hate taking antibiotics, I love antibiotics. They work.

I planted a vege garden yesterday. I used compost from my worm farm. This morning I found that every single leaf from my brussel sprout seedlings were gone. In just 18 hours. Maybe it was worms hiding in the compost. I always thought worms were my friends. Maybe I can grow veges inside. Hydroponically. Can you get organic hydroponics.

I've been out in my vege patch everynight picking slugs off my broccoli. And spraying the plants with a vinegar and water mixture to deter the things. Not working either. And I've got onions planted around them, and charcoal around them to deter snails. IT's NOT Working. How do I grow vegetables to feed my family? How does one become self sufficient for vegetables in the middle of winter?

So that's a little update on me. I may have sworn off the internet at some stage a while back (I've got an addictive personality) so updates may be few and far between, but I'm still catching up on your blogs. It's good to hear from you all.

For those of you who like surveys, here is a Myer Briggs career one.

It's been in the drawer for _years_. I've never wanted to watch it. I now feel alive enough to watch it. I'm not sure what will happen if I feel alive. I might become selfish, and do all kinds of things I want to do all for myself.
I might see the world, I might see the leaves, and feel the wind and hear the kookaburra's. I might be nice to my neighbours. If I was an artist I'd paint, or draw. Too bad I'm not. I might start writing again. I might ring my old friends and go out for lunch. I might have parties and talk to people and tell my stories. Does this make sense?

We did lots of gardening on the weekend. We have some lovely garden beds that display our weeds nicely! But now they are all weeded, and fertilised and mulched ready for whatever we want to plant in them.

There was no moisture in the soil and no worms, only spiders. And now it is raining and raining and raining.

We had our Easter service. The service starts with chanting. The image of the body of Jesus, a painted wooden icon cut out in the shape of Jesus body is lifted from the table in the middle of the church where is has been laying in a burial cloth and carried up onto the alter. The church is in total darkness when Jesus body is lifted up, then the priest brings a candle out and calls He is Risen! Then everyone lights their candle from this candle. It is amazing how much light one candle gives out in the total darkness.

After the service, which finished at 1am! the priest called out, "let the feast begin" and a little girl jumped and down and called out, "Yes!"

Despite birthday parties to attend we fitted in a breakfast feast of bacon and eggs and tomato and pancakes with maple syrup and chocolate and coffee and hot cross buns, and a dinner feast of roast lamb and veges and chocolate cake with double cream. There was still hot cross buns and Greek Easter bread (given to us by our God father) and Stollen (I know it's for Christmas but it tastes great!) but we couldn't fit it all in.

And like all good feasts, it continues for days with all the left overs providing special treats.

A friend told me he has observed that the Orthodox really know how to party. With all the senses, and great food, and Easter services that go on for a week. He has limited experience of church, but he says church celebrations are two days a year, talk, talk, talk and then go home. Of course no doubt other people have different experiences, but I found his observation interesting.

Every bite of chocolate was so delicious and it reminded me, with every bite, we are feasting because Jesus rose from the dead. He is alive.