Tuesday, 6 April 2010
The Forth bridge
There is a saying that most of us know in English with regard to the long red metal structure afore mentioned in the title of this post.
' . . . is like painting the forth bridge; you finish one end of the job and then start again at the beginning. I don't know what one might say in French. ' . . . is like making a planning application for a shed, or, like trying to cancel your car insurance. If anyone knows I would be interested.
The reason for this observation was inspired by the green stealth in the garden. Tiny micro-dots of seedlings are suddenly ten centimeter plants, overnight; sucking everything out of the soil and shooting skywards.
Me and tool of which I don't know the name run around like demented hamster clutching handfuls of lush weedage, filling the wheelbarrow and emptying it onto the Mount Fuji of weeds.
We of the hothouse are organic (mad) in our gardening pursuits, and it is heartening after three years of no chemicals that amongst all the usual suspects in the weed world there are treasures appearing: grape hyacinths, edible herbs including coriander! violets and lots of other things of which have no idea about until I re-discover the Flora Of The Midi book we have somewhere.
Maybe next year we will start workshops: weed appreciation for begonia obsessives, one hundred things to with dried weeds, weed counting as a way into meditation.
Anyway this year I will make beds of tame stuff and areas of weed freedom just to see what else appears that we can marvel over and possibly eat.