I knew it would happen sooner or later. On a scale of one to ten, this
lame Six on Saturday blurb merits about one-point-five. Yet, in a strange way, it’s good to climb off the hamster wheel. I shall upgrade my vote to two-point-two.
I’ve been very very busy (trèz trèz ghnóthach) and the garden has been neglected, so I’m resorting to the theory that a garden in September can mind itself, mostly. It’s a theory I’ve just concocted. No research papers have been published.
If I get a few hours here and there over the next few weeks, everything will be hunky dory, known locally as maith-go-leor. If not, it’ll be a case of letting the Autumn decay accumulate and I’ll do a clear up later on. I’ll adapt to the situation.
So, what can I show-and-tell this week? I continually surprise myself. I refer to Jon’s mantra… Six things, in the garden, on a Saturday… Could be anything. In my head-scratching search for anything, I think I’ve found something, yet whether it be classified as something or anything is highly debatable. What is definitely self-evident is the effectiveness of prolonged head-scratching.
Does anyone else label pots? I’ve scratched my head and failed to recall even one Saturday Sixer who has labeled a pot, except myself that is. I am quick to clarify that it’s just the one pot. I didn’t lose the run of myself entirely. I have written somewhere what this means. 21B refers to bulbs planted this year. I know also that they’re lilies. 123 is obviously the variety, but until I find where it’s secretly stored, I’m unable to enlighten myself. Could be anything.
Our two Yorkies share the garden with us. Becks is older and waddles slowly around, while Molly keeps a vigilant eye for invaders. They’ve missed being under my feet this week.
If I were a dog, I’d be Becks.
I’m on the look out for unusual items, in particular, a milk churn, an old cart wheel and an old-fashioned water pump. In the meantime, I am very content with this. I’ve added a wooden frame. Right now, it’s propped up against a bare wall. I did have plans to mount it somewhere, but I like the notion that it can be moved from place to place. Dreams change too.
As this dream is merely leaning against the wall, is the wall bare, I’m wondering? It’s a small point.
Again, what self-respecting Saturday Sixer would dream of showing bins? Seriously, like! Grey, brown, green and blue, together with a smaller bin and bucket at ground level. Correction: all six are at ground level. It’s great to have a selection of colours that remain constant all year round. I’ve been thinking of swapping them around but permission is not forthcoming.
I’m making it abundantly clear… A tonne of loose stone won’t ever go astray. This will be used for something or other sooner or later. Probably later. There will be head-scratching aplenty.
In all conscience, I couldn’t send this to my editor for publishing without including something that grows. Usually, a plant or two would spring to mind, but this week my mind is moving in different circles. Something that grows? Let me think… A combination of laziness and aesthetics leads me once more to hide behind a beard. I’ve been known to grow a féasóg from time to time, at intervals of about two years. Whenever I’m reminded that a beard doesn’t suit me, I’m inclined to mention Mr. Steinbeck.
“A man with a beard was always a little suspect anyway. You couldn’t say you wore a beard because you liked a beard. People didn’t like you for telling the truth. You had to say you had a scar so you couldn’t shave.”John Steinbeck (Cannery Row)
Sin a bhfuil uaimse don seachtain seo. I’ll be back again next week with another Six-on-Saturday. Thank you for reading. I shall be spending some time scratching and reading other SOS updates when I can. If you’d be interested in joining the fun, the details are here. Wherever you are, have a great week. Slán go fóill.