Seeds.

This year.
Hasn't been rosy.
It has been rather shite actually.
This year was laid out like an ancinet, dusty rug.
Falling apart... a little frayed around the edges,
The kind of rug you never sit on. The kind of rug you eye contemptuously from another room. The kind of rug thats is kept because you can't throw it out... but you actually kind of hate it.

The kind of rug that is usually rolled up and packed away.
However, in this life, putting something away never solves the problem. The rug will be hauled out again eventually... will demand that you deal with its presence.

Thats why, in these winding down months I have no doubt that we will drag that ugly rug of a year outside.
We will hang it on the line and in the stirring humidity of a summer morning we will beat the hell out of it with a tennis racquet. We will roll the rug up and we will donate it to Vinnie's. It will have a new lease on life and we will begin next year with polished timber floor boards. Solid, conforting, invigorating.
Next year the windows will be open, and air will blow through and the cobwebs of cancer will be brushed away.

The rug of this year will be no more. And that makes me unbelievably happy.