Archive for the ‘Gardening’ Category

Saturday, May 29th, 2010

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Abominable plastic primates

Thursday, May 27th, 2010
Chelsea 2009 Chelsea 2010

Every year I go the the Chelsea Flower Show and every year a fibreglass gorilla is there. People walk past bemusedly looking at it. Some go up and look at the price tag and stagger away in disbelief. It is £14000. The fibrglass gorilla is surrounded on all sides by less bulky fibreglass things such as a sleeping hound, a mystic mermaid and various nymphs looking weak and submissive. The fibreglass gorilla does not look weak and submissive. If you opened your curtains of a morning and saw the fibreglass gorilla on your lawn you would not think ‘god that fibreglass gorilla looks weak and submissive’. In fact if you opened your curtains of a morning and saw the fibreglass gorilla on your lawn the least of your worries would be whether or not it looked weak and submissive. This is because a. You are likely to have far too much money to care. b. You have the aesthetic sensibility of Jordan after she has done a BA in Bad Taste from the University of Poundland and c. You are a laughing stock for miles around because you have paid £14000 to have a fibreglass gorilla on your lawn. Garden gnomes are banned from the Chelsea Flower Show because they are in bad taste. Garden gnomes are, on average, around 12 inches in height. You can easily hide a garden gnome under a tasteful tuscan pot or behind a stunning stipa gigantea. For all we know the whole of the Chelsea Flower Show could be secretly stuffed with bad taste garden gnomes that are hidden from view by dint of their diminutive dimensions. If the RHS will not allow the open display of garden gnomes then WHY OH WHY DO THEY ALLOW THE ANNUAL DISPLAY OF THIS SIX FOOT ABOMINATION? It’s right opposite Titmarsh’s bunker too.  Some plastic things shouldn’t be allowed. That’s two for starters.

Sunday scratchings

Sunday, September 23rd, 2007

Unfortunately named potential Prime Ministers of Japan: no 1
Mr Fukuda

Never knew that
Sarah Smith, Channel 4 news presenter, is the daughter of former Labour leader John Smith.

You know you’re addicted to gardening when:
You find yourself watering plants outside in the middle of a downpour; in case they won’t get a good enough soaking.

Different or the same?
1. Treble or triple?
2. e-mail or email?
3. Mormon or Moron?

Revenge of the rose bush

Monday, July 16th, 2007

Every year, for about a week, my garden and the whole neighbourhood is awash with the most glorious scent of hundreds of white roses which all come into bloom at the same time. An old rose bush which has grown relatively massive over the years is literally dripping with flowers. It is a sensory sensation which I, and the local bees, fully appreciate. This year I was faced with a dilemma. You see the rose bush has become so massive that it has taken over nearly 15% of my modest estate. It is the kind of rose bush that flowers in the second year on wood that it has made the previous year. So this year’s flowers are on last year’s growth. I wished to reduce the rose bush in volume to make room for my landscaping aspirations a’la Chelsea. I wished also to retain the olfactory extravaganza previously described. Sadly, I concluded that the former requirement must, this year, take priority over the later. That is why, following this year’s best ever flowering, the rose bush is now a stump with two tiny green shoots sticking out of it hopefully, pointing skywards. It’ll be back. I’m going to train it more assertively this time, no more rampant rambling allowed. Steel wires will be installed, ties will be tied, secateurs will be wielded. We’ll see. Next year’s perfumefest, I fear, may be cancelled whilst growth occurs. This years itchfest is, however, in full flood. You see, what I didn’t factor on was that the rose bush had some friends. Lots of them. Lots of little, flying bloodsucking friends possessed of salivary juices so noxious that nine days later my forearms have swollen to Popeye proportions. My belly button is reduced to a fraction of its former capacity and is surrounded by unspeakable angry inflamed horribleness. I’ll spare you the other locations but lets just say those little bastards got to places that very few have ever got to. I’m taking extra strong drugs, I’m trying to find ways of getting my whole head into the freezer to reduce the swelling, I’m slathering on calamine lotion, I’m beginning to appreciate that nature, is indeed wonderful in her defences of apparently helpless plants.