Ewwww!

Just had to remove a putrid, rotting bird from the pool outside my workplace. I fished it out with the net, then picked it up with the plastic bag, and the damned thing just about fell apart. A big eel cruised up, eyed the floating remains and cruised away - too revolting even for him. Can't say my job doesn't have variety.
      Lots of obsessive gardening lately, three lovely days at the weekend. Didn't turn on the TV once, just read a book about Tuscany, so this did wonders for my state of mind. Forget the elections, the bad news, the destruction of the city by demolishers, the (still!) discussions about the bloody rugby.
     Guy Fawke's night this Saturday, now there's a "tradition" that we could get rid of. Why we celebrate this I'll never know. All it means to me is having terrified cats cowering all night under chairs, meowing sadly.

My Ooooby post

I signed on to Ooooby, a website whose title stands for 'Out of our own back yards'. It's a site where people can share experiences and plants and seeds and swap surplus produce and help for gardens. Its worth looking at (Google ooooby), but I'm having a few problems with it as a member. I'm having trouble logging in, but in order to get help or notify the site's operators, I have to log in - talk about Catch-22. Here's my post:
     Typical. I just plant some warm season crops and we have days of overcast cold weather. Hopefully everything will not rot. But the positive thing is that we have had rain, which has helped the green crops, celery, lettuce, spinach. Everything is just growing, growing. This is what I love about gardening, there's always an upside to balance the downside, and always a downside to balance the up (so that we don't get too cocky about our successes). The good news is that the basil and eggplant have germinated. I started these inside in the conservatory, they have taken off fast. The fastest thing I have ever seen is cavolo nero, it germinates in about four days. Hopefully I'll have some to offer other Ooooby's soon. Trying Maori potatoes this year, put them in a basket in a dark place to chit them. I've just looked at them, they are sooo cute, little stalks all straining to grow. I've got the variety called Huakararo, they are supposed to be buttery in taste. Yum. I'm going to grow some of them in a big harakeke basket that I made. Its totally biodegradeable and I can make more if needed.

I"m getting tired of...

Beginning to think that the worst part of the earthquake is not the aftershocks but the aftertalk. I hate, hate, hate the way that a natural event is being used by the ambitious, the disgruntled and the just plain nutty to forward their own little agendas. Bad luck for us that the quake happened in an election year; the politicos are using it to get re-elected with silly promises and emotive appeals to the masses. The opportunities for corruption and graft are vast. Jobs for mates and mates of mates. Lots of discussion about the CBD; can it be rebuilt, should it be rebuilt? Should we rebuild heritage buildings or trash them as dangerous? Blah, blah, blah. Everyone has their own ideas that they pursue to the point of mania or tedium. Its like living in a dysfunctional family, makes me want to leave and never come back. PS. A Chinese bank is said to be interested in buying into the rebuild. Why? What do they want in return? Unrestricted immigration for Chinese nationals? Remember Tibet, folks.

In time of daffodils - e.e. cummings

In time of daffodils (who know the aim of living is to grow) forgetting why, remember how in time of lilacs who proclaim the aim of waking is to dream remember so (forgetting seem) in time of roses (who amaze our now and here with paradise) forgetting if, remember yes in time of all sweet things beyond whatever mind may comprehend remember seek (forgetting find) and in a mystery to be when time from time shall set us free forgetting me, remember me.

Chanticleer - In time of daffodils

Talking of undertakers

I've found that I say "undertaker" instead of Funeral Director. I like undertaker better - they undertake to dispose of you. They take you under. They undertake to take you under. Funeral Director sounds so prissy. "I am a Funeral Director" "Wot, you work with stiffs then?" And why are we not allowed to know what happens after death? I suppose those with a religious faith "know" what happens, but what proof is there that we go on going on? Couldn't someone, just one, come back and tell us? Would it spoil some vast eternal plan? Mind you, it would be a real bummer if we KNEW we're all going to hell in a handcart. Just like if you knew when you were going to die and how. You'd spend your whole life going "oh, only 23 more years, only three more years, only two more hours...." Bloody hell, you'd never get anything done for the anxiety. Urk. feeling a bit mad at the moment. Must be spring, can't settle to anything except obsessive gardening. Another important philosophical question. Why does the house make itself untidy? Why is the default option chaos housework-wise? Or is it that the house is forming itself into a form of order that I don't recognise as order? Drifts of unironed clothing form in corners, piles of book and papers appear along the corners of the living room, dirty dishes stack up automatically - it's order, Jim, but not as we know it. Just imagine if the housework's default option was clean and tidy, as I know clean and tidy? What if things tidied themselves instead of un-tidied, cleaned instead of dirtied, piled instead of un-piled? Of course, I could train the cats to do the housework. Yeah, right.

The Importance Of Being Idle