Johnny and the Dead
(With apologies to the late and very great Terry Pratchett for making free with his title)
My paper carnations
During the confinement Jon was our designated shopper and as we waved him farewell from the gate he struck out into the outside world brandishing his woodwork mask and hand gel (a rather forward thinking Christmas tree gift from my Aunt). On returning from his first mission he wandered up the garden path, proffering a dead plant and a radiant smile. “What is that” I sneered down at it. “It was free” he returned grinning beatifically. It would seem that the local supermarket, unable to care for its flora was handing them out. Apparently the grey drooping object before me had once been a Cistus. Not to be outdone by a little thing such as mortality, Jon trimmed the plant, watered it lovingly and prepared a site to plant it.
Jon had now found a new vocation in life which fitted perfectly with his innate love of “a good deal”. Like many, we had headed into our garden to seek solace in the new world and avoid any thoughts of housework. In the weeks that followed along with the cornflakes and tomato ketchup he often returned with a new plant patient for his particular attentions. During the confinement Jon presented us with some free pelargonium, 6 heritage tomato plants for 50 cents as well as gazinias, carnations and thrift. These new candidates for creating a herbaceous heaven were tended and cared for and thrilled us when they made a valiant come back to the light.
The tomato hospital (with some new arrivals)
Although the majority survived our misguided ministrations we did lose the Andine Cornue, the Rouge Russe is looking a little delicate and to be honest, the jury is still out on the Cistus. However, this is a post about finding pleasure in little things, of trying despite the odds and dreaming of beautiful blooms and tasty tomatoes...particularly if they were a bargain.
The carnation looking much happier