Spring.

Spring at last, I think. But you never can tell around here. It could be minus 10 degrees again in a minute.

That ghastly weed called Wisteria is showing signs of how particularly glorious it is going to be this year, for about three weeks, after which it will turn my garden into a hair grabbing, boring jungle. But this is a bad sign because a late frost will kill the flower buds. And then what? Rien de tout. That’s what.
Four of them actually. I grew them all from seed some time ago when time didn’t matter. They take on average about six or seven years from seed to flower, or at least mine did. Please God, may I have the full glory this year?

I have planted some Broad Bean seedlings, slugs don’t like Broad Beans. Although if previous experience is anything to go by I will only get enough Beans to grow them again next year. I love Broad Beans, but I have forgotten what they taste like now. The French aren’t into Broad Beans.

I wait with bated breath for Lovely Linda to give me some Tomato Plants again. I don’t know what she does, but her plants are always good. Mine degenerate into Tomato Blight just as the wretched Tomatoes are about to ripen. But if you catch them quick enough you can have a lot of Green Tomato Chutney. I’ve got a lot of that in store.

Also planted some saved Butter Nut Squash seeds from last year. I managed to grow two of those last year. God knows why. I don’t even like them all that much.

I am currently sending out air thoughts to my French neighbours who gave me so much last year. Heavy on the Italian Tomatoes and light on the Marrows, s’il vous plait. The Italian Tomato Sauce I made last year and stored in metal capped Mayonnaise Jars is still good, probably something to do with the Basil and a touch of Vinegar on top. Nope, I am useless at growing Basil. I look at it and it dies, so I shall have to buy that.

No Apples, please God. Apple Chutney is now frightfully passé. Got enough of that to stock a Chutney Shop or ten.

I might try English Runner Beans again. I loathe French Beans with a passion. But this will necessitate creeping around the garden every night at dusk to catch The Slugs. No, I never kill them by any means. Everything has a right to live.
Sadly, I can’t throw them over the garden wall anymore because I have neighbours there now, and they might catch me at it. Although I didn’t feel particularly guilty about it in the past because I have chucked over a couple or three Hedgehogs in my time.
Yes, I do like Hedgehogs. But I didn’t like The Fleas when the dog brought the Hedgehogs into the house. You haven’t lived until you have been bitten by a Hedgehog Flea. I was on hefty pain killers for a week.
So what shall I do with The Slugs?
Bucket and Chuck It in the nearest field, peut etre. Making allowances for the tenacity of the Bastard Stephen the Slug who always finds his way back. He likes it here. A bit like the cat. Yes, Mate. I know it’s you again. You ever were a Slug.

To finish on a more positive note, please God, may I have a Wasps Nest again? Wasps are my most favourite creatures.

Thank You, God, in advance.

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5 Responses to “Spring.”

  1. Elizabeth Says:

    Nice post!

  2. elenamitchell Says:

    Thank You, Liz. My Stats have dropped again, but you remain forever true. But stick in there because I am going to be famous one day. Probably after I am dead, so it could be quite some time.

    • Elizabeth Says:

      “Here lies @Elenamitchell, unappreciated, unsung blogger, whose comments on life have amused her few readers to the full.They enjoyed the unique ride. May her body rest in peace under glades of Wisteria and the wasps she loves. And may all her pets be restored to her in full health and glory as she passes through the Pearly Gates to an even fuller life on the other side.”

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