Posession

With our internet connection lately you’d think we had bike pedals under the desk and that if you didn’t go fast enough the whole thing would conk out on you, as it does, all too often.

That’s okay because blogging on a back burner totally suits my new lifestyle which is to be a warrior for the greater good of my plants, fighting aphids and slugs and whatever else makes it way into my garden bed past the giant FEE-FI-FO-FUM sign I have planted there. Beer is working well. Or at least it was until a a few days ago, and then quite suddenly for no reason I had no slug carcasses in my morning collection plates. I’m not sure why they all climbed back on the wagon but maybe it was the sight of their bloated families lying in those pretty glass dishes by the tomato plants, hmm.

Another remedy suggested by a blog friend was to put crushed egg shells around the plants, but you have to bake an awful lot of cakes and quiches to circle one plant. Six eggs only made a demi tour around my mint and I have at least twenty other plants to circle. Someone else suggested marigolds but the slugs ate up them like they were parked at a 4,20 euro salad bar which really pissed me off. Now I’m left with 10 embarrassing little stumps, no heads or leaves (but apparently the roots in the soil are what sends out the invasion message which is NO consolation believe me) . The latests tip is circling the plant with cinders and we have a lot of that from burning all our wood cuttings so I’ll give it a try. This is another old timer’s trick and those usually work well.

Speaking of which…

I’ve inherited a lot of overgrown roses and what folks around here tell me is that Little old Lady was passionate about roses and bought them all the time. Part of her roserie is now our driveway expansion, oops but I did convince Seb to spare a few of them and to help me replant by the front fences . They’re straggley but showing hope and I keep pointing to the smoking wood pile when I talk to them (yes, I’m kooky…) reminding them how close they are to being sent to the fires. Roses are very dramatic so the move and *gasp* the sight of the fire has them all aflutter fanning their little faces. I suppose I need to learn more about how to care for them and I can’t help thinking of the Little Prince whenever I have that in my head.

Back to what I was saying, … I remember seeing an episode of A Haunting where a dead woman invaded the personality of the new owner and the woman started doing these strange things like wearing old flowered dresses and baking apple cinnamon cakes whereas before she was this high stepping career woman banker or something, I don’t remember. There may be something similar going on here as I’ve taken up drawing again with a vengence and the roses, I can’t stop thinking about how to get them to grow better and how I can make a new roserie. And the preocupation with slugs, I’m pretty sure Little old Lady had a case of it too because living here how could you not. Is there not a market somewhere in the world for French slugs?

So yes gardening, gardening, gardening and more gardening! I’m ob-sessed.