"Show me your garden and I shall tell you what you are."
"My whole life has been spent waiting for an epiphany, a manifestation of God's presence, the kind of transcendent magical experience that lets you see your place in the big picture.
And that is what I had with my first compost heap."
Spring has reached the stage where it means business in my garden. I thought I'd spend this week documenting the long anticipated unfurling of petals and leaves. Don't you love the dunce's cap on the Californian poppies?
Seen here is my first stumbling effort at plant propagation, a bit of honey in a jam jar for a short time and then bam! straight into the crumbly compost, I know, I know, I'm supposed to have some fancy schmancy soil + sand + eye of newt collected betwixt the waxing and waning moons but I didn't have any on hand and, well, this just seemed like a good idea. We shall see if roots eventuate.
Regardless of the outcome, this was my second hallelujah moment, a la Bette Midler, (see the far left column), forget the compost, now we're talking free plants! No, make that FREE PLANTS!!! For someone who spends the average yearly income of a Nepalese beartracker* on plants a month, this was truly an exciting moment. The icing on the cake is that the plants were procured from a nasty man who never walks his dogs. I broke off some bits that were protuding on the footpath figuring that if I cannot liberate the dogs, at least I can liberate the buddleia. Will keep you posted on the outcome. x
* Am not acutally sure what the average yearly income of a Nepalese beartracker would be, or indeed, if there is any such thing as a Nepalese beartracker. If you are a Nepalese beartracker and are reading this, my humble apologies.