​it must either be a stab in the dark or possibly a well laid out plan that hasn't gone awry when it comes to the creation of property division lines be it for countries, provinces, cities, townships and then let's not forget to exclude our own backyard. 
 
even national parks and reserves seem to have no rhyme or reason as to how they are separated by roads and highways. i wonder if it comes down to the migration of wildlife or possibly the weather might have been taken into equation. for whatever the reason be though, even an odd one, is that these lines are travelled on day in and day out with no one being the wiser.
 
where the nursery is located we must pass through 10+ road signs informing us that 'you are now entering Wood Buffalo National Park and then 'you are now leaving Wood Buffalo National Park. strange as it seems though is when you can spot the next the sign just down the road from where you standing right now.
 
but don't get me wrong though as i do find the information essential to my travels, but at the same time you must admit though that it's quite comical to be entering and leaving (unless of course that there is a surcharge for the comings and goings) that many times when just driving on this one particular stretch of road but actually all i can think about are the people that have had to go out to erect all of those signs just so i can know. 

​when my monsters were old enough to grasp and understand through demonstrations, the world of teaching opened up far beyond their store bought toys. life itself when growing up is all about learning while playing, and in truth the accomplishment of mastering something new is what drives each of us to success today. 
 
bringing home massive tractor tires and filling them with dirt was the first step in the art of creating life as it's one thing to play in the sandbox or down at the beach with your shovels and pails but when using those same tools for in a different manner is how a garden grows.   
 
being handed a packet and opening it up to reveal what still looks like specks of dust, planting them with stubby little fingers and then carrying sand pails full of water back and forth from the kitchen sink all to bring the look of awe and amazement when that first little green shoot poked its head above the dirt. after the whole neighbourhood not only heard about all of the goings-on but were given the whole tour of their garden began the process of learning something new, whether it be for gardening or perhaps not, as not everyone has what is called a 'green thumb'.  
 
looking back upon that time shows us our own growth, as at first one methodically follows the instructions written on the back of the seed packet to now, winging it to see what can happen when you experiment while doing something like this or like that. 
 
this is how my nursery does things as it's hard to play by the rules when there are no rules to be followed. it's something like having a whole handful of seeds, placing them into that same sand pail and then scattering them all across the garden. my guess is that this is how faeries are made.

i think that the nursery is finally starting to look clean although a few things just might need a bit tending to so i do believe that it's list time ~

• the cobwebs have new cobwebs spun upon them with again new ones again on top of that with another whole layer on top of that although i will say that it's a good thing spiders like to spin their silk in different shades of paint as it certainly does add a splash of colour ~ blicky ~ but colour none the less
• the dirt pile that was once swept into the corner has now upped and managed to find the dustpan itself
• or how about the ivy that was in such a knotted jumbled mess that it figured out how to actually dance the twist
• what about trying to erase the pretty pictures that have been drawn on the scattered note pads
• and then who could forget the tumbleweeds mixed in with the beads that roll aimlessly across the floor ~ i will note though that i have absolutely no idea where tumbleweeds might have come from here in the nursery
• oh yeah ~ and what about the ball of yarn that had turned itself inside out only to find another knot on the end that was in a different colour
• then there was that really really really long purple thread that somehow came across spools of green and pink and yellow threads and then wrapped them all so tightly together that they will be able to be separated
• how do you water the silk flowers that have taken root on the floor
• what about the coloured markers that have long since dried up but are still so extremely smelly that we use them as incense to keep the nursery smelling fruity
• and how on earth do you pour the food coloured dyes back into their own matching coloured bottles

that's quite the list and i do know that it will only grow longer and longer as how do you expect to get anything done with a nursery full of faeries?  

​i don't think that i am able to walk past a sheet of bubble wrap without having to stop but the question is whether i or you for that matter, can stop at that very first balloon? and yes, i will admit of being guilty when it comes to NOT being able of walking away but what would be the fun of it all if i could just walk away but i'm wondering then if i would then feel that i didn't do my civic duty to the 'bubble'. 
it all begins the gentle pressing in of the very first one and then waiting to hear that burst of air that makes you feel like you are jumping out of skin with anticipation. from there it just turns into a frenzy of twisting, turning and squishing about so it sounds like popcorn jumping around in a hot oiled pan. 
but then there come the feeling of panic, dreadfulness, and even anxiety as you find yourself at that last blister. you know the one, that one that makes your heart slow down and your fingers to freeze up just incase you can't stop in time and you end up making that last move too soon. and then it happens, you hold your breath, close your eyes tightly and try to lavish this very last and final pop before it is time to walk away as there is no further reason to stay.