Kitchen Garden Forum

Kind of loses it's gloss after trying to log on and send this message five times - still some bugs Mr PH.

Snow drops, croci, all kinds of bulbs poking their noses through dark soil. Rabbits hopping off before Nugget and I. Sunshine, glorious sunshine, to warm my back, bleach Nugget's nappies and wake the soil.

Bought a heated propagator and some compost - can't wait to start planting tomatoes, peppers and melons next week.

Dare I say it . . .

Dear Malk it might have taken you five attempts, but i'm glad you did, what lovely words.
Can we have some more of your poetry please.

It's all too early, though - snow now forecast, and my daughter saw two tiny baby birds lying dead on the pavement in Cardiff. Oh dear. I do enjoy the lovely weather when it's here, and we got a lot done, but the unseasonal nature of it all is getting me really depressed. Probably not helped because I now have a really horrid flu with massive temperatures, cough cough, shiver shiver.
Anyway, here's a nice thing... I had a phone call this morning (my husband left early to drive to a meeting in SW London) from someone to say that he had found my husband's wallet in Reading Service Area, and could he have his mobile number so he could ring him and give it back to him. I later rang Brian, and he had got it back. Aren't people lovely? I felt really cheered.
Alison.

Dear Alison, i quite agree threre are some very nice people out there, and theres a lot of nice people on here too.
Hope you are a lot better very soon Alison, i hope you can't catch it from the computer, you are the third person with flu on here.

Well i'm not very good with computers, so is that what they mean by a computer virus.

we have snow this evening!
sadly its not sticking
malk thats lovely!

Getting a bit annoyed - couldn't log in at all yesterday no matter what I tried.

Here's a wee garden poem.


Morning Ritual

Spring’s green rumbling wakes me.
Slipperless dawn icing my feet with dew,
the crisp sky tumbles above,
a basket of dried blue cornflowers out of season.

On a slate stepping stone
butterfly cracks flit over damp-kissed
violet and gold snowflakes.
My sage fingertips remove
coiled damp leaves from the fence line,
autumn’s discards.

A tight fist pushes up
through drooping snowdrops
and rhubarb umbrellas,
ruffled plum wine splashed
among barbed wire and cobbles.

An echo of the past, my mother’s peonies,
blousy pink explosions,
nibbled open by fat black ants.
Jaws working, they peeled
the jewelled buds until they burst.

Coffee cup in hand,
the morning crossword staining her wrist,
her day began with a slow stroll to deadhead.
She checked tea roses
and floribundas for black spot,
aged dogs at her heels,
panting in the rising humidity.

Damp oak branches whispered of India ink.
Koi swimming beneath cloud lily pads,
the music of seeds
spilled from dark compost.
A green hummingbird blurred borders
a breath, a heartbeat in flight.

My first steps, blue roses,
transplanted forest violets,
gold-bearded,
throats veined indigo and white
to struggle in mortar filled soil.

In my own garden, two cats follow me,
noses buried in petals.
With her blessings, I dip my fingers
into good clean mud.

Dear Malk, what can i say, apart from what a lovely arrangement of words.
Funny how some people can do that, then others like myself can make a right hash of it.

Thank you, I'm sure you have your own immense talents in things I couldn't imagine trying.

To each their own, enjoy what you've got.

Dear Malk i'm sure you must be right.

OK Oh - give us a clue??!!!

Did you spot this early Spring story?

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/engl ... 328961.stm

Dear Tigger i missed your last reply, so the clue is, i'm good with my hands

What a lovely story Geoff, thanks for putting it on here.