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Are gardeners mad?

I've just spent well over an hour on my hands and knees, picking individual dead leaves out of my rockery. In my defence, it was in the shade and the birds were singing overhead. I had lovingly spread fresh pea gravel and pebbles between the rocks just before our garden open days to freshen things up and didn't want all the debris to get all wet and mushy if (as forecast) we are lucky enough to have a shower tomorrow. Does anyone else do barmy things like me?
North East Somerset - Clay soil over limestone
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Buy a mass of expensive gear, go to the Gym, empty your wallet for the privilege of killing yourself on machines wearing a silly head band then swimming forty lengths because that is what you have to do, then sitting in the Cafe eating massive bacon sandwiches and drinking sugary coffee with fancy names for which you again empty your wallet. Wearing those silly watch like things that supposedly tell you when you have done 10,000 steps only to find they are as accurate as a petrol gauge in a vintage car?
A session in the garden with some digging planting weeding or even just sitting contemplating listening to the birds and bees considering which job to do next, (yes you have a choice unlike the Gym) that is normality and as we get older we come to realise that.
Our weekly Bowls, the Club dance, the visiting and walking around gardens or Parks or as in my neck of the woods walking on Beaches across moorlands and along the river plus our mad gardening keeps us fit and healthy, Gym's kill you.
So who is mad?
Frank.