Miralax With Gatorade

"give light to March" with the Mother of Wine

It's actually the end of February that I burn vines and leaves. It 's an old custom, to shed light on the path of Spring.
are dead branches of lives of "old garden" (I call it that), a Moscato d'Adda - this is its diversity - which for me is the Sumerian Goddess Lives. Took care of me and I poto, as well as I chose years ago ... and even if the old kitchen garden is not mine, "is it just me that I reach. So at the end of February for poto always "give light in March," forerunner of spring, like an old road with the 'fire in the margin' to show the way to summer. I call in March from the end of February and continues with the first days of Spring ... the wood is not that much, the screw is one and the fire that comes every night by his dead branches and a small fire in a ... fire that called good, now does not wait for more than the Equinox. And with the ashes of the branches of the Mother of wine that I like pouring the old man who goes, what remains of winter, with the new land of Spring ... and I do not need a pot to cook but I have prepared for days the leaves dried to power, for it be born and die right on the ground, though still damp. It is not true at all that "anything goes", it's just that in this case the old merges into the new, from the ashes of the Vine of life on Earth. Honestly, I'd let it grow fallow this screw without prune it, I always have a little 'fear when I' touch 'the Mother of Wine, with those branches twisted, beautiful, young. And wise. So wise so young that it seems rather old. Knots and twisted branches, the junctions of the Screw, and life ... she talks to me about everything he does turns very wide, my pre-visions that are realized on time but in a way that - sometimes - I would not have dared imagine, as if 'something' he enjoyed drawing sharp bends on roads straight ed'altronde that's how you learn things: the con-twist ... the twisted bones of the Mother of Wine. I've loved from the start, this plant, I saw the beginning el'invadenza intrusive (even the smallest invasion!) Usually bother me, then I saw writhe with Time, in my meager pruning but especially under the blades of the time ... Kronos, Saturn, which smooths and twists. He became a noble and old (permododidire 'old'). And now I am that I am almost afraid of her. Now (and only now!) But I have to burn it, at least a little '... a bit of' remains dry 'and a bit of' leftovers', I need to March, to "do Lume ...