Today I worked beneath the myrtle tree in Max’s garden. Here, left unfettered, weeds had made a stronghold, finding firm footing amongst the roots. This is a large tree, and has looked rather sorry for itself since last year’s twin beasts. Still it is a great favourite, the fragrant pompom flowers and the limbs of peeling bark, looking a little too human on occasion, along with the glossy evergreen leaves make it almost perfect. Not quite though. It seeds itself around with abandon, the tough little myrtlings send roots deep and quick. I must have pulled up at least 3 million this morning. Then my foot began to hurt just a little too much, the snow clouds were gathering as I retired, promising to return on another day to continue my quest.