What's not to love? I worry for the kibblemeister. He worries too much about things that he cannot change. He lacks serenity. I wish he could live more in the moment, like me. Or like children playing in a garden rain or shine. Or like birds making more birds and feasting on bean flowers... <3 H xx
We're supposed to regard nasturtiums as a decoy, but I would regret/resent that too. In my experience, the "pests" never go for what you expect. This year choi has been a hot favourite with just about everyone in the garden, so I plan to sow it as a sacrificial crop next year -- when it will, of course, be ignored and we'll have a glut, as happened with lettuce this year.
Happy to report that the beans are fighting back with a new flush of flowers.
What's not to love? I worry for the kibblemeister. He worries too much about things that he cannot change. He lacks serenity. I wish he could live more in the moment, like me. Or like children playing in a garden rain or shine. Or like birds making more birds and feasting on bean flowers... <3 H xx
Tell him to get over himself!
...And I love this poem.
It has a bit of so much
but especially hope
and summer and love.
Thank you, I’m glad.
Where there’s life, there’s hope. It’s easier to feel that when the sun shines and the sky is near-enough blue.
Truth!
This one is nearly as good as the one about gathering nettles.
I feel for you on the bean flowers. I'm trying very hard not to feel regret that caterpillars have eaten all my nasturtiums.
Thank you.
We're supposed to regard nasturtiums as a decoy, but I would regret/resent that too. In my experience, the "pests" never go for what you expect. This year choi has been a hot favourite with just about everyone in the garden, so I plan to sow it as a sacrificial crop next year -- when it will, of course, be ignored and we'll have a glut, as happened with lettuce this year.
Happy to report that the beans are fighting back with a new flush of flowers.