Last week I took myself off to a nursery to buy some things to go in the veggie garden that Dave built.
It was heaven there. Just beautiful plants and shrubs and seeds, and people really passionate about it all. Picked Rocco up on the way home and told him we had some gardening to do.
"FINALLY MUM!"
Give that boy a job and he is happy as a pig in muck.
We laid cow poo and blood and bone and then planted all of our pretties. Rocco was very particular about where to put things, and so was I. We agreed to put herbs on one side, veggies on the other.
Cherry tomatoes, lettuce, spinach, strawberries, a big fuck-off pink flower, rosemary, chives, a curry plant, thyme.
A few of you mentioned that I get something to honour Cam, so I did. Such a beautiful idea.
A Camellia. Because it has his name in it. (I'm going to pot it because we don't own this house ... anybody have any Camellia suggestions? I really, really don't want it to die.)
Watering time.
I didn't get my hands dirty because of the fertiliser ... but I got my clodhopper feet dirty. You're right - it felt good, like I was connected to something.
The very next day, a box was left on my doorstep from my friend Ann.
Cuttings and pictures and plants ... it was so beautiful. (Thank you Ann.) She even left me a wee bag with "Love" written on it. What could be in such a bag?
Why, love of course. The only thing we need.
"FINALLY MUM!"
Give that boy a job and he is happy as a pig in muck.
We laid cow poo and blood and bone and then planted all of our pretties. Rocco was very particular about where to put things, and so was I. We agreed to put herbs on one side, veggies on the other.
Cherry tomatoes, lettuce, spinach, strawberries, a big fuck-off pink flower, rosemary, chives, a curry plant, thyme.
A few of you mentioned that I get something to honour Cam, so I did. Such a beautiful idea.
A Camellia. Because it has his name in it. (I'm going to pot it because we don't own this house ... anybody have any Camellia suggestions? I really, really don't want it to die.)
Watering time.
I didn't get my hands dirty because of the fertiliser ... but I got my clodhopper feet dirty. You're right - it felt good, like I was connected to something.
The very next day, a box was left on my doorstep from my friend Ann.
Cuttings and pictures and plants ... it was so beautiful. (Thank you Ann.) She even left me a wee bag with "Love" written on it. What could be in such a bag?
Why, love of course. The only thing we need.
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