I normally consider my garden a sanctuary of hard-won tranquility, without any associated bitterness or frustration WHATSOEVER. This morning, however, just as I was about to take a breather and sample some light refreshments, I had a chilling premonition of immanent foreboding...
Was there something in the tea that made me lose my footing? Had the sudden burst of winter sunshine gone to my head? Who on earth put the wheelbarrow smack-bang in the middle of my repast?
Not being one to make a fuss or draw attention to myself, I naturally hauled myself up and took stock...
What a debacle! Thank goodness there were no witnesses!
Somehow I'd lost my appetite. Don't you just want to throw EVERYTHING into the compost heap some days and go and visit someone else's garden?
Why must I be so humiliated? I believe that was my very last lemon!
It's all really far too much. SOMEONE's going to have to clean this up. As if I didn't have a zillion things to do in the garden as it is!
I'll never eat al fresco again. It's time to buy a nice little high-rise apartment and sell my entire collection of 'Garden Perfectionist'.
At least SOME people are sympathetic...
Hello Faisal:
ReplyDeleteMany, many commiserations. Oh, how well we know that feeling when, at odd moments, it really does all seem too much and the prospect of somewhere without any garden at all seems highly desirable. Which is exactly what we found, but after twenty-five years making one garden in one place, and at ages considerably in advance of your own.
So, stop for a moment, get another lemon, make a fresh pot of tea, give Teddy a cuddle, pause, reflect, and then carry on!
Hello Jane and Lance...
ReplyDeleteYes. I am carrying on AS IF IT NEVER HAPPENED. Teddy's such a good pal, after all, and Zara, well - you couldn't find a better muse. As it so happens, next-door has a marvellous supply of lemons, so I've ducked out and replenished my bowl...they barely notice!
What shall tomorrow bring? I'm sure there are far better ways to spend my mornings than extricating myself from collapsed theatre props...I mean, tea-time installations, or...table settings.
Already, I hear the larks are calling...
Delightful new take on the garden!
ReplyDeleteA new photo, James. Might I say I like it. Very much. Thanks. What's a garden for but to play in, in the end. I have played in far less salubrious conditions, but enjoy now my current stasis. And, I have to say, there's nothing like tilting the balance, even if I get my feet entangled!
ReplyDeleteWonderful sequential photos and I love the last one with Teddy and Zara! No broken bones, thank goodness!
ReplyDeleteGlad you were able to replenish your lemon supply and the larks have arrived!
Have a great weekend!
meggs.xx
No-one was injured during the photo-shoot, Meggs.
ReplyDeleteI am glad not to be taken too seriously. You too have a great weekend.
Faisal,
ReplyDeleteOnly a confident and brave man would document this debacle and send out into the blogosphere! Fortunately, not a cup or saucer chipped but please don't stop dining al fresco.
Michael,
ReplyDeleteOnly a clown would waste so much time and energy ensnared in a scenario of such lttle consequence!
No, nothing except my reutation may have been damaged by this 'reality photo shoot'. I'll consider eating al fresco again if only I can find my 'Deluxe Australasian Al Fresco Dining for One' cookbook...
Sorry to hear about your life-changing garden trauma! (We're all sympathetic here.) We alfresco'ed yesterday and the wind was so strong the lettuce kept blowing off the sandwiches. Annoying, but we didn't go shopping for something in a hermetically sealed high-rise afterward...
ReplyDeleteOh dear! I can sympathise and having been in a similar situation myself, I can honestly say that what hurt more (than the grazed knee and the scratches on the hands) was the hurt pride and the bottomless jagged heap of embarrassment that I had to climb out of...
ReplyDeleteI suggest a take 2 the next sunny day we have - bruised egos heal quickly (in my case anyway, ;-)
James - that's an awfully wayward lettuce you had there. You'd think they'd make them to sit down on the bread obediently, wouldn't you?
ReplyDeleteChristopher - I'm shocked to hear that anyone has had a worse experience than I have...I hope the injuries you sustained didn't necessitate hospitalisation!
your post made me smile ( almost lough...) i hope this was the intention. iif it makes you feel beter we all are clumsy - sometimes ; )
ReplyDeleteWhat me, clumsy, Demie? No, no, no...it was all the whelbarrow's fault...
ReplyDelete( Sometimes I prefer to send myself up to make others laugh or smile, than get too serious and leave others feeling they've got better things to do. )
You're in winter there while we're burning here because of summer. (35 centigrade degrees in shadow). Strange...
ReplyDeleteYour photos are very cute, Faisal. Especially the one in which you are with your toy bear and your face closed with a cloth. Know that you made me laugh:))
We know what 35 degrees heat is like here, in summer, Sihirli. Today though, it was only about 14 degrees...a pity you can't send some of your heat down to us, and we can't send some of our cold up to you!
ReplyDeleteI'm glad I made you laugh...it's no good to be unhappy for very long. When people laugh their pain goes away.
This episode raised a smile but I am without doubt sorry to see such a pleasant moment ruined. Faisal please do not despair; put the kettle on, rearrange the garden furniture and get back out there!
ReplyDeleteBertie
Yes, indeed, Bertie: you'll be impressed to know I've not only restored all utensils and furnishings to their rightful positions, but have already begun a whole new re-configuration of the back garden, where this sorry episode took place...
ReplyDeleteA high rise apartment? Don't even think about it!
ReplyDeleteI'm paying notice to your winter weather...why does your winter seem perhaps a bit melancholy while my winters are bitter and cruel? Do fess up.
And at the risk of sounding like a shoe hound, which I assuredly am not, nice shoes. : )
Andrea, it does get pretty cold here - like, say 5 degrees Celsius at night, which is about 41 degrees Fahrenheit - with the occasional frost and fog, but that's about as desperate as it gets. We whinge a bit because Australia's mostly sunny.
ReplyDeleteYes, I can put up with lousy pants and forgettable shirts, but shoes are something else - they're your imprint!
that is the hammiest acting since faye dunaway appeared in MOMMIE DEAREST
ReplyDeletegood though
I'm available for lessons if Faye can afford my fees, John.
ReplyDeleteIn Sicily I don't have a garden so I grow basil, coriander and parsley on the balcony. Actually I don't have a green thumb, I'm not good at all at planting or taking care of plants. I'm more of a cook...I hope you like to eat! I have friends in Melbourne by the way, they used to work in Rome now they've retired and live in Melbourne. I'm in Rome for the summer so I'm writing about Rome. As soon as I go back to Sicily I'll write about Sicily.
ReplyDeleteso funny - lol, lol, lol - the only element missing is a highly melodramatic accompanying musical soundtrack.
ReplyDeleteCiao, Ciccia. it is an honour to have you visit. I love to eat, by the way! As you know, Melbourne has many residents of Italian descent, and many good Italian restaurants. I couldn't live without good food, and I like it to be made with the right feeling.
ReplyDeleteCatmint, if anyone had the time to trail after me while I hummed and improvised, I'd be only too happy to post their soundtrack...
ReplyDelete