I just had to share this. It tickled my funny bone.
Yesterday the gardening POD met and we had a look at Liz’s garden. This time my best friend Sandy came along. She’s just started her veggie garden, much more systematically and more orderly than mine, so I invited her along.
We talked later and we agreed that it’s interesting seeing other people’s gardens and seeing what they’re working with. Liz lives in a rental with a backyard almost totally enshrouded by shade trees. She’s putting raised beds and pots in the patches of yard that get sun and she’s slowly extending the garden beds in the front yard, which as luck would have it is a perfect site for vegetable growing. We sat around, swapping stories and ideas and as always I left with renewed enthusiasm for what I want to get done.
Then something AMAZING HAPPENED.
Sorry for yelling.
You know how they tell you that Mr Right won’t come knocking at your front door? That you have to go out into the world to find him?
Well, they’re perfectly right about that. I’ve been living here 14 years and he still hasn’t turned up. However, the Veggie People have.
To explain what I mean: At the end of my street is a house that’s had veggies growing in the front yard for years and years. In my young, ignorant wild and free days, I’d walk past on my way to the shops and sniff arrogantly (but wildly and freely) and think, ‘Ugh! Who’d grow veggies in their front yard where everyone can see them? Yuck!’ Or something like that. Nowadays, of course, I walk past craning my neck looking at all they’ve planted, getting ideas and thinking, ‘I’d really like to meet these people. This is exactly what I want to do.’
Last night at around 5.30 there was a knock at the door and an elderly neighbour was there with a petition in her hand. Our local council is allowing units to be put up all over the place and it’s really starting to impact on the quality of our suburb. Anyway, she was there to protest about an 11 apartment site nearby. I signed the petition and we started politely chatting. She spoke with a heavy Greek (I think) accent and I started to put two and two together. (I’m capable of such advanced Mathematical thinking occasionally.)
Sure enough; she and her husband live at Number 1. I told her that I’ve been wanting to meet her for ages and we had a lovely chat about food growing. They, like Liz, moved their garden out to the front when two storey units blocked the sun from their back yard. She looked at my front yard… very embarrassing because I’ve totally neglected it in favour of the back yard… and I’m probably going to pop in there next weekend to meet her husband and see what he’s doing. We agreed to share some seedlings and seeds so I’m really excited. Who needs Mr Right when you can have silver beet seedlings so silky that they seem like spinach?
Edited to add: I forgot to mention that I inadvertently maligned my ex husband yesterday. When Tom1 woke up and we had ‘the chat’, it turns out that it wasn’t a written contract. Tom1 has promised to work there till at least September, so Tony and Viv can go on holidays. Sorry for the misinformation, but I just went on what Tom1 said that night. Stoopid kid.