Sunday 21 March 2010

Spring

There's an abandoned garden across the street. An old guy used to tend it until a few years ago, then it fell to abandon and last winter, some drunkards settled in the garden shed and set it on fire. It's owned by the railways, the tracks run directly behind, so some railway maintenance guys checked it, nothing happened for a while, and then a bunch of 'landscapers' came, hacked down the fruit trees and roses and other shrubbery, planted a few trees I wasn't able to define yet but it's not fruit trees but some council green crap, my preliminary guess being some everything-resistand lindens.
(We hold hopes that nobody builds anything there. First, because, second, it would ruin the view, third, I wouldn't see the trains. For some reason, trains are an integral part of good view for me.)
But, before turning to illegal dump, it was a garden and a million of snowdrops appeared. Yesterday, I got a shovel and went to loot. Mom was slightly opposed because after all, it's trespassing and who knows what but I found that someone was already there, replanting. I salvaged two bucketfuls of said snowdrops, along with some narcissi (we're waiting to see what colour they are), spring snowflakes - these poor plants were buried under a heap of splinters that stayed after the idiots who hacked down the tree nearby and they are long and yellow from lack of light, and also some scillas (Scilla, I need to identify the species yet).
In the autumn, I got a real heap of various bulbs, I happily forgot which they were, but for saffron and tulips from the box that said 'various colours and breeds', or in other words, Plant and See.
I also ordered a few black irises (Iris chrysographes (1)) and Meconopsis betonicifolia, known as Himalayan poppy. Looks like poppy but with bright blue blossoms, I found at Fragrantica that it's used as a perfume accord (2). The nursery folks added a nice leaflet strating with I'm sleeping, don't plant me now yet! but the plants already sprouted long pale leaves. Irises are already in the front garden, blue poppy, since I hear that it's fickle, was placed at the windowsill and it's being cute. The leaves are hairy... and imagine fragile pale yellow leaves with black hairs. Funny.

And, yeah, I talk to plants. I talk to inanimate objects too, the other day, I mistakenly bought three skeins of Malabrigo, you know, I fell so unfortunately that the card slid into the terminal, just a shopping accident, and I caught myself petting the skein telling it that it's pretty. No worries, I'm already taking psych meds. And although I do carry pointed objects at my person, my needles are too valuable to stick them into you, fellow human beings, they would get dirty. (3)

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(1) and, Helg, when you pass around, feel free to ponder aloud why the hell it's chrysographes, it means something around writing in gold but then it has nothing to do with the damn plant, or I'm completely wrong, or I'm puzzled.
(2) ... with two fragrances listed. Il Profumo's Coquelicot may be somewhat hard to find but Lancome's Poeme is available just about anywhere, if I'm right, so I'll check. And if the damn plant blossoms, I'll check that one too.
(3) now imagine diabolical laugh, if you fancy.

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