Tag Archives: plants

1470. Revenge of the mint

Harvey grew mint in an attractive pot on his garden path. We all know how mint can spread and take over an entire garden. It is best that it be contained. Harvey liked to have mint. It made a refreshing tea on a hot summer’s day. He liked to boil his potatoes and peas with a sprig of mint. And he loved mint sauce with roast lamb.

It was early spring, and Harvey knew that if he cut the mint back, it would flourish so much thicker and vigorous in the pot. He cut it back almost to the level of the soil.

Later he noticed that he could smell the mint, presumably on his hands. But then, even after he’d had a shower, he could still smell mint. The smell became stronger and stronger. It would not go away. It began to affect his taste buds. If he ate an orange it would be like chewing mint. Corned beef tasted like mint. Everything tasted of mint. He could smell and taste mint everywhere and all the time, and could smell and taste nothing else.

And then Harvey began to see green. Everything was turning green. Walls were green, windows we green, drapes were green, his car, his concrete steps. He used to think that mint green was a lovely colour. Not anymore.

Harvey was starting to go crazy. He’d had enough of mint. He picked up his potted mint and smashed the container onto his concrete path. It broke into a thousand bits. The container, soil and dirt lay an eyesore on his garden path. Harvey vehemently kicked everything into the garden.

The mint was free at last. It was what it had wanted all along. It could spread throughout the garden. And Harvey could see, taste, and smell once again as normal.

1199. Garden trolley

It was Magdalena’s lucky day! She had driven to the garden shop to get some petunias. As she pulled into an empty car space she suddenly braked. A shopping trolley had been left carelessly in the parking space. Magdalena backed out and parked in another empty space.

On her way to the shop she thought she would take the trolley and put it in the trolley stand. It was such a nuisance taking up a valuable parking space.

Oh wonder of wonders! Oh rapture! That was the secret trolley. Everyone else had walked past it all day. Magdalena was the one to return it and she got a five hundred dollar shopping voucher from the garden shop. Even a photographer was there to record the event for the local paper!

“I’ve never won anything before,” said Magdalena.

Magdalena got lots of things with her voucher. She got some plants and some seeds, but also some weed killer, and some netting to stop the birds from eating her blueberries. She even got a new hoe to replace the one that had seen better days. And of course, she got a new garden hose. The hose was top of the range! This hose wasn’t going to kink like every other garden hose Magdalena had owned throughout her entire life.

When she got home Magdalena put all her wonderful treasures in the garden shed.

A few days later her little grandson went into the garden shed, drank the weed killer, and died.

(Footnote: Hi everyone – These days, generally speaking, I can use the internet only between midnight and 6 a.m. (New Zealand time). I generally go to bed at 10 p.m. and get up at 5 a.m. (used to be a dairy farmer hence the old rising habit!) However, by the time I’ve made the coffee and read the news, there’s very little time for reading your blogs. Some blogs I can sneak a peek during the day, provided they don’t have many pictures. My own blog is posted and scheduled until mid July 2018 (except for a couple of poems) so I will continue to appear as if I’m posting daily – but in fact my participation in the blogging community is going to be rather limited. So until further notice I’m going to be a pretty secret reader! I enjoy our blogging community and will be fully back as soon as I can – but my daytime internet has a daytime limit, and daytime online work-from-home has to come first. Bruce)

Poem 55: I cannot love the sky

55free

I cannot love the sky
until I know the scientific names for all the clouds.
Look! how dramatic is Cumulonimbus!

I cannot love the garden
until I know the scientific names for all the flowers.
Oh! such lovely Lobularia maritima!

I cannot love the song
until I know the scientific names for all the birds.
Hark! to the rapture of that Turdus philomelos!

I cannot love reflections in the water
until I’ve checked for giardia,
those anaerobic flagellated protozoan parasites of the phylum Sarcomastigophora.

I cannot love you
until I have dissected your opinions
tested your resolve
verified your good faith
and checked that you don’t have a Daucus carota stuffed up your Sphincter ani externus
like some overcharged know-all who

…cannot love the sky

To hear the poem read aloud click HERE.

557. Into gardening

557icelandpoppy

Chantelle had a whole bank of convallaria majalis. It could be seen from the road, and it was frequently admired by people passing by, especially the smell. Of course, convallaria majalis’s season is quite short, but nonetheless, Chantelle thought their beauty outweighed the shortness of the season.

“Why don’t you have pericallis cruenta on the bank instead?” said Chantelle’s friend, Maxima. “Their season is longer, and they are more colourful.”

Maxima belonged to the same Garden Society as Chantelle and was an expert at growing dicentra spectabilis. There was nothing that Maxima didn’t know about propagating dicentra spectabilis.

“No, I’m happy with the convallaria majalis,” said Chantelle. “Besides, Angelina specialises in pericallis cruenta. I don’t want to be a copycat.”

Thus, Chantelle had convallaria majalis, Angelina had pericallis cruenta, and Maxima had dicentra spectabilis.

One day Jane applied to join the club. She grew Iceland poppies. “You mean papaver nudicaule, darling,” guffawed Maxima.  Chantelle and Angelina giggled behind their hands.

Clearly Jane was not ready to join the Garden Society.

In the long run, Jane was rather pleased.

320. Heritage plants

320heritage

Grandma Magda loved her garden. It was flowers, flowers, flowers. But she had a special patch. Magda belonged to the Heritage Plant Society.

The Society was for enthusiasts of old plants. They would rifle old gardens and derelict areas for long forgotten flower varieties. These heirloom plants had perhaps been developed and replaced by newer, brighter strains. The Heritage Plant Society would gather the seeds of the old-fashioned plants, sow them, and preserve the genes of the abandoned strains. They were just starting to pop up in the garden now. How exciting!

Isabella, Grandma Magda’s teenage granddaughter, came to stay.

“What a pretty garden, Grandma!” said Isabella.

When Grandma went to town for groceries, Isabella thought she’d give Grandma a nice surprise. She weeded the garden.