transition is complete. I have crossed over to the green side and completed my very first gardening project. As the self-confessed anti-gardener (years of cutting, weeding and mowing on freezing days during my London stint left me with frost-bitten fingers rather than green ones) no one is more surprised by this confession than me.
It all began innocently enough, with a casual stroll through the picturesque little town of Clarens, the jewel of the Free State. Why was this Sandton girl meandering on a Sunday in the Free State of all places? Well, hubby and I were enjoying a romantic weekend getaway on a little guestfarm at the foot of the Drakensberg mountains and decided to see what the town, famous for its abundance of art galleries and antique stores had to offer. About thirty minutes and six quaint little shops later I fell in love with an old, rusted (verging on 'buggered') pennyfarthing leaning up against a shop's entrance.
Me: "Love, look at this! Isn't it gorgeous?"
Hubby: "Um, I think it's part of the shop's decor. Not for sale."
Me: [What I said was] "But it's too gorgeous. It can't hurt to ask..." [what I meant was] "I really want it. Please be a lovely husband and go get it for me"
Hubby: "It's an old rusted bike that you can't even ride. Why do you want it so badly?"
Me: "You just gotta have some vision love... imagine it as part of a potplant installation on our balcony with sweet peas and lavender pouring out and around it's rusted form" [the minute I used the words 'vision' and 'installation' I saw his eyes glaze over, so I went to Plan B] "It's my birthday next week, did you have another plan for my prezzie in mind?"
Long story short, twenty minutes later we were strolling back to our car. I had a huge grin on my face, hubby had a huge rusted bike over his shoulder.
Me: "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I LOVE it. Best early birthday present ever! Um, I just hope it fits in the car. It will, won't it?"
Hubby: "Um, yeah, I think so. Yeah, it will... I think"
So, we get back to the car, drop the seats, make the hatchback as spacious as we possible can and begin playing tetris with my present. After several failed attempts at several rather creative angles my smile had turned to a look of utter distress. If we couldn't get it into the car, it wasn't coming home...
Luckily, two local guys had seen our struggles and came to the rescue. Together they manhandled my precious pennyfarthing into the boot with such precision that a diamond cutter would feel inferior. So, ten bucks later and one minor scratch to hubby's bumper, the precious cargo (my words) or hunk of junk (his words) was ready to go.
48 hours later, it was on my balcony and I was loading seedlings, three varieties of lavender, pots, gardening tools (incl. really cute polka dot gloves) and potting soil into my car. Operation: Prove to hubby that bike wasn't a waste of money was in full effect.
After much deliberation, I figured out what combinations I wanted in which pot. I got to work thoroughly destroying my manicure and doing more squats in an hour than any personal trainer's ever managed to get me to do. And this is the result...
(Above: Rosemary, Sweet peas, Geraniums, Lavender, Bluebells and three other plants I can't pronounce the names of)
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