growing all over the place.

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The pepper in my window looks like a lantern left on from a holiday that has yet to be invented. The lime tree will probably start its own religion, as it has been dead several times and back among the living, so far–more often than the other way around. The Jade mother tree is currently hibernating, while the three children are growing like weeds, just behind that grey curtain I hung up to finally get rid of the kitchen. (At least visually.) That other plant I had once salvaged from the office when it was just six limp leaves is now an angry territorial explorer, sinking its air roots into any piece of soil it can find. Oh, and then there is that dry pot with a bunch of seeds in it. Let's see who is going to win here. Now that was just what is going on on the inside. The outside is just worse then that, and the squirrels have not been visiting perhaps because they do not like some of the herbs growing there. Nothing illegal or dangerous, just the regular kitchen variety, now under a blanket of ice that used to be snow. Ready to be plain old water again. There are some microscopic plants living off that orange spot in my office. I will probably need to get up on a chair and lick the ceiling. I will probably need to lick it softly, so the whole led paint cover does not fall on my face. Maybe there should be no licking at all. Office or not. My face actually almost fell off today, as the wind was getting under my skin somewhere between first street and union, sometime on the way to the train. I only realized that I was doing something incredibly illegal as I stood by the car door, with my coffee in one hand and a muffin in the other. Aren't beverages now prohibited on the subway? Or was it food? Or was it just switching cars while the train ain't in the station? It pretty much looks like my gardens are out of hand and the weather has turned for the worse and some of the new underground rules are not quite clear (yet). But as far as happiness levels go. Now is the time to light the candles. Beautiful season we have here. Languagebeginswhereitends. Rockin'

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2 Comments

The spring-loaded shoes will be useful for high-stepping over snow drifts and slush. (Talk about a timely discovery...)

You and the plants - a delicate relationship. Your post somehow reminded me a book of Maurice Druon named Tistu (at leat it has this name in Brazil). A story full of humor and poesy about a sensitive boy with a magical talent for gardening.

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This page contains a single entry by Witold published on December 14, 2005 1:10 PM.

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