the Cotswolds in the hope of finding some escape from the rat race. But all that did was add a four-hour commute to my already jam-packed, plugged-in, horse-trading, Blackberry-addicted day.
Eventually, and so predictably, burnout and depression took hold. So I quit. With no idea what to do next.Jobless and dysfunctional, I found solace in the garden (which was pretty neglected), pulling up weeds and scattering a few old vegetable seeds (bought when we had first moved and I had visions of becoming Barbara Good) on a bare patch of soil.
Despite my haphazard care and wandering attention, the seeds grew and we ate our first homegrown meal.Sure, it was only lettuce and radishes, but it felt like I had conjured them out of thin air.
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