Stray thoughts, tamed.
Watering the spot of the fallen seeds has been an exercise in boredom.
That's what is bound to happen when you tramp up and down a two-kilometre stretch with a hoe in your hand.
The word moonbeam, describing a lone phenomenon in the night sky, has slammed two words into one neat little unit.
Giotto (c. 1267-1367) demonstrated his artistic skill by drawing a perfect circle without the aid of a pair of compasses. Upon learning this story from my sister when much younger, I did idle away some time trying to do the same, and then overlaying a compass-drawn circle on my pathetic efforts. The results convinced me... Continue Reading →
As a hedge against the possible failure of the perfect seedling tray, I decided to plant a very short row of seeds in another bed.
Of course, it is not the ash of burnt roses beneath the soil.
These are not the jeans that inspired the name of this blog all those years ago, but a passable substitute.
I did so love the days when my company vehicle was a 2.7 litre diesel truck, especially when it was loaded with sacks of manure for delivery to my father's garden!
I tackled numerous little odd jobs around the house with surprising gusto.
A woman walked into a bar with a hoe in her hand...
That elusive pair of jeans 