The garden experience

On the hunt for my mother’s birthday present I found myself in a warehouse.
Actually…two…to compare prices.
On a Monday morning there wasn’t a great deal happening…the usual old couples who finally realized the sun is shining.
I wandered aimlessly through the aisles…wood, heavy machines, half real bathroom suites, paint…Ah, all this gave me a real kick!
With the glow in my eyes you can tell I grew up with boys.Rough.Wild. Hands-on.
There is little surprise in wanting to build my own house (building regulations here are unfortunately quite strict…)
A slightly blocked nose from hay fever couldn’t let me pick up all the scents-
But I exactly knew where to go…the garden centre…for weeks now I cannot decide between the orange tree or a walnut tree…then I saw a little bamboo ensemble in a pretty pot…well, on the front it read ”Lucky bamboo”…when I turned it around to read the watering instructions half a litre water ran over my arm.
The moral of this chapter: Do not trust bamboo in a pretty pot, in particular the ones under five pounds!
(Together with the bird that left its white marks on my freshly cleaned windows yesterday, it may be a truly lucky May).
Anyway…the garden centre…usually I only spend as much time in front of the chocolate shelf. It was tough. More, because…well, I felt like I also needed something to take care of. Something breathing; something that would be as truthful as I am myself…and most important, something that can be in one room with me in silence for hours.
So, for my mother I chose a bluish growing flower and for myself I decided to grow red peppers.
Oh, how much I miss growing fruit and veg on a piece of land hmmm I always had a good hand with helping creatures grow (except for snails, they are just lame…)

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