Saturday, March 22, 2008


The parsley has grown its first proper leaf.

It's curled. Like a baby's fist.


Parsley can generally be trusted to 'come true'.

(Unlike humans.)

(Or squash!)

Lucy brought me a packet of pumpkin seeds this morning. She said she couldn't find any fully grown pumpkins in the shops - it’s the wrong time of year - but she hopes the seeds will do instead.

I told her about Mr Subjunctive. He's written to say he's never been given a pumpkin - even though he lives in Iowa. (America.)

Lucy pointed to his caveat:-

"I suppose,"
he says,
"I haven't ever had a crisis where receiving a pumpkin would have helped. Though it's not like getting a pumpkin is likely to make things any worse. . . . "
Lucy urged me to look properly at the picture on the packet.


Pumpkins can make things worse.

A little boy is sitting on top of a giant pumpkin - a pumpkin so big it almost hides the man crouching behind it.

The text along the top invites me to 'Beat the World Record' and grow one that's even bigger.

"This pumpkin," I said, "Is already too big!"

For what? - Lucy asked.

"For my garden," I said. "It'll be as tough as old kale and as tasteless as flat leafed parsley."

She went home.

Maybe next week I'll give her something to put in her garden!

There's an idea!



Kathryn/ said...

Well, Ms. Montgomery, you are a very funny woman!
Kathryn, Welcome to Blotanical!

Esther Montgomery said...

Thank you.


kate said...

What The Bird Said Early In The Year

I heard in Addison's Walk a bird sing clear:
This year the summer will come true, this year, this year.

Winds will not strip the blossom from the apple trees
This year, nor want of rain destroy the peas.

This year time's nature will no more defeat you
Nor all their moments in their passing cheat you.

This time they will not lead you round and back
To Autumn, one year older by the well-worn track.

This year, this year, as these flowers foretell,
We shall escape the circle and undo the spell.

Often deceived, yet open once again your heart,
Quick, quick, quick, quick! The gates are drawn apart.

C.S. Lewis