I should probably thank the kids. Ever since they came along, duvet days and weekend lie-ins are a distant memory.
But now there's another reason to get up and out on a Sunday morning. I've never been a church goer, but I'm beginning to feel a similar sense of fervent purpose about a day in the community garden as a religious convert. There's an anticipation that builds throughout the week - who will be there this Sunday? How many interesting conversations will I have? What marvellous transformations will we achieve whilst chatting away?
Last Sunday was no exception. After more than a month of frustrating wet days, we were finally back out in force and raring to go. Teams began buddying up left, right and centre to tackle a myriad of jobs in synchrony: one buzzing with excitement over a new tea-room taking shape, another helping with the final stages of wood chipping paths (using wood we chipped ourselves), a compost workshop going on in one corner, in the other, new cold-frames springing up alongside a compost toilet, willow weaving, mulching fruit bushes...the list just goes on.
It's such a glorious sight to see groups of industrious, happy workers on a collective mission. It makes you feel invincible somehow, and I know it's the closest I'll ever come to feeling like I'm part of the "A Team". (Apologies for the 80's American TV reference, but if you grew up goggling at 'Mr T' and swooning over 'Face' you'll know that part in the show when the plan just falls effortlessly into place). That's how it feels when you foster relationships with people and support one another. The results truly are astonishing. Did a Sunday Service ever make anyone feel this good, I wonder?