Dear Marc, know how the other day I talked about that Italian recluse? She was found after 26 years in her somewhat smelly apartment, a tiny scrap of a person, weighing in at an un-healthy 30 kgs but possessing hair, lots of it, 2 meters in all, streaming from her Italian skull.
I look out over our garden, and feel our garden is that woman. We've neglected the garden, the previous owner neglected the garden and now it has hair all over the place. We need help, desperately. So I called a garden consultant and I feel it may already have been worth it. Especially considering that those beautiful strange orbs growing next to our garden table, orbs so appealing to the 1-year old eye and touch, were most likely henbane, a plant appreciated by witches and Hamlet enemies due to its poisonous qualities. We removed it and threw it in the garden bin. If you have any goth friends, they're welcome to come by and pick up a little henbane, for decorating purposes or whatever the broody, dressed in black crowd is into now.
You have a garden? A green balcony?
let me know
-e
Ps. It's not just trouble, having a garden. This is our view from the lawn. I love that little gate to the forest. What's beyond? Who knows?
1 comment:
I'll take a wild yard over a perfectly manicured garden any day. And my goth-loving days are well over so I'd chuck the henbane, too!
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