When Good Turns Bad

The veggie gardens seem more secure now, and spring is here – you can feel it and smell it and hear it; it’s also a taste. The veggie garden changes are mostly cosmetic, but hopefully they will make the dogs think that attempts to jump over, push through, or burrow under the fences are not an option now. And that if they do make such attempts they will break a structure and it will be obvious and no “It’s just a bit bent, I didn’t do that” defence will be available to them. I sincerely hope these things are true. I don’t feel like I have permission to let myself off worrying about this issue during the day, when I’m away from the house. It feels like I can relax a bit, but not totally. Certainly there is no question of being able to dismiss it from my mind as something that is sorted and can never be a problem of any sort ever again. It most certainly can. I find myself hoping that the weather will be inclement, as that implies the dogs will stay in their house, and if they do that they won’t be out, being frisky, and getting cheeky ideas. But the weather is becoming bright (well, it’s mostly bright) and sunny and beautiful. It’s the weather which is Sydney’s best and possibly without parallel in the world – or only with a few parallels, maybe. It’ll get hotter and be almost unbearable, later on. But it’s really pleasant now. And pleasant means an encouragement to roll around on the lawn and maybe to dig holes, in my mind anyway. And obviously it can’t rain every day, even though if it did that would allay my sense of unease somewhat. No, spring is here, and this is a good thing horticulturally. Bigger fan of colder weather for other things but it’s a bit rubbish for growing stuff. But even this ‘best’ time of year is a problem. The Melbourne Cup is coming up, the rugby league grand final will be played this weekend (and the AFL replay) and Laetitia has seedlings lovingly cared for and nurtured and ready to go, where they have been outrageously successful near the back window. Next stop the vegetable patch for them – but it makes me feel a queer sadness when I see them. The overwhelming feeling when I see them is a kind of delight and a confidence that those one’s will kick some arse when planted. But there’s a nagging memento mori angle too – we all die in the send, don’t get cocky, don’t just assume that everything will be alright and these little buggers will thrive: plants die and plants are sometimes dug up by overexcited and bored puppies. And so on. And on.

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Published in: on September 27, 2010 at 8:23 pm  Leave a Comment  

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