Confessions of a weekend hippie THE LAST ONE
THESE have been The True Confessions of a Weekend Hippie. For 20 years you have joined me to play in the garden, shape mud into buildings and watch wildlife. You have sat with me on the verandah in summer, loose-limbed in the heat on those long days when the thrum of insects dulls all surface thoughts.
You have stood in my kitchen in Autumn, stuffing the last of the basil into jars of skinned tomatoes, preserving drum ticking as it warms. You have cycled with me
