Occasional Scribbles

Posted by: Scribble | 11/05/2008

The Garden

I simply cannot keep up with my garden at the moment. I don’t mean I’m bogged down with weeding or planting or anything, just that it continues to amaze me how quickly it changes. Barely have the blue bells wilted and dandelions all but gone, when suddenly buttercups have not only appeared from nowhere but are almost up to my waiste. Just the other day I was admiring the superb blossom on my apple tree and now its all but gone. The Lilac has positively bloomed overnight and cow parsley is all the rage along the edges of the garden. Only the other day I was wondering when the ugly brown, profusion of tangled sticks that is some sort of Clemitis or climber, would have some leaves on and looking at it today it is unrecognisable; covered now in lovely bright, fresh green leaves. The wild meadow nearby which was only recently grass, has not only turned into a mass of wild flowers and gorgeous golden butter cups, but has got so high it’s been cut down already. Just as one flower raises itself up another elbows it aside and takes it place. It’s a real riot.

Along with all this plant activity is the heartening sound of all the garden birds. Singing and chattering and sometimes arguing away, they are a real delight to hear. Not so long ago the wood pecker almost drove me to distraction with his constant hammering in the oak trees but now I rarely hear him. I think he must at last have found a mate. The black birds sing delightfully all the time and the sound of the pidgeons cooing each morning and evening is so soothing. There is a multitude of insects around too. Enormous bumble bees noisily fly around and some tiny bees are living in one of the flower beds under the bedroom window. Their comings and goings are fascinating as they disappear down tiny holes in the soil, gently buzzing and humming as they do so.

We are barely into summer and yet it feels as though the garden is anxious that everyone shall get their chance to shine as all too quickly summer will be over and the garden will be silent again.

Strange Happenings

Odd things have been happening to me lately. While preparing the supper the other day, I went from the kitchen into the study and then couldn’t remember why I’d gone in there. I still, a few days later, don’t know why. Haven’t got the faintest idea. It remains a puzzle. Then a couple of days ago I had some rubbish in one hand and my car keys in the other and I threw away the keys. It wasn’t very nice retrieving them either. Today, deciding that I really should get a plate on which to cut up an apple, I walked into the sitting room without it. Considering I’d spent some time weighing up whether I should or shouldn’t get the plate I was somewhat surprised.

Occasionally I am in mid sentence when I completely forget what I’m talking about. And yet on those occasions I can be pretty quick off the mark in coming up with an alternative, something that at least sounds plausable and doesn;t give the game away. At other times, I find myself slightly panicky mid sentence, as it dawns on me that I might have already had this particular conversation with the very same person already. It’s just possible that I am repeating an anecdote or something I’ve already mentioned before.

It brings to mind memories of when my sister or I would say, gently, to one of the oldies in the family, “Yes you did tell me that” (several times actually) and pretend it was worthy nevertheless of hearing again, though it often wasn’t.

I’ve given this matter some thought and have concluded that mostly it is the boring, mundane and trivial things that I find myself getting in a pickle over or forgetting – that is when I eventually remember them and can evaluate properly. Some things are of course a matter of having a diciplined approach for example, I really don’t have to start the washing, see that the floor is dirty and go and get the hoover thus starting another task prior to finishing the first. Or, having dug up some plants today that I had every intention of planting somewhere else, but got waylaid when I looked around and noticed that the plum trees need pruning and set about that instead. I never did get back to the plants and they are now sitting where I left them, wilting.

And so, I have considered the why’s to this annoying affliction and as I am in my mid forties and reasonably healthy, have ruled out senile dementia, though I suppose early onset of dementia is possible. I have also ruled out any associated scary girl stuff because I really don’t feel old enough for that. Also it doesn’t seem to be especially age related, since a friend of my son has told me each time he visits all about his head injury and propensity towards fits and he’s only 16. Which leaves me with the conclusion that I really don’t like the trivial, boring and mundane. And where did I put the Parmesan cheese? I know I bought it as I went to the shop especially for it, no matter that I came out with a whole load of stuff I barely remember buying. It must be there somewhere.

Rubbish Rage

I arrive home to find a red sticker on my recycling bin and felt the stirrings of anger before I’d even looked at it. It read: NOTICE in big bold print, followed by

NO BLACK SACKS
or PLASTIC BAGS

Please place recycling loose
within the bin.
Failure to do so will result
in rejection of your Bin

Reading the odious message infuriated me. I had not put my RR (recycling rubbish) in any bags or containers whatsoever. I established that this was not allowed when I first got this unwanted extra green bin since people I spoke to on the matter, seemed to be of differing opinions as to whether this was acceptable. Some thought that you had to put RR into bags but that you couldn’t put PR (proper rubbish) in plastic bags/black bags and that it had to go into the bin as was – disgusting! Since confirming that RR had to be placed loose and into the bins I have complied. As it must be washed as well, it doesn’t need to be wrapped in anything whereas PR obviously needs to be or it will smell and attract flies and rats etc. Though I have had an outbreak of maggots, flies, rats and other bugs around the wretched thing but this is because it sits there for two whole weeks prior to being collected under this medieaval scheme. Even the RR has attracted flies and beetles despite it being washed.

However what is so irritating is the ATTITUDE of these people. Recycling is not compulsory – yet. I personally am not convinced that it is beneficial anyway. Other countries, the Netherlands I think for one, have already tried this scheme and found it seriously wanting and the benefits did not outway the negatives and it has been abandoned. Either way, I object to being threatened in such a way. Frankly I don;t care if the do ‘reject’ the bin. If they do, they will lose revenue, albeit not much since my contribution isn’t a lot, and I will simply go back to doing what I did before the green bin, that is, I shall burn all the burnable stuff and put the rest in the PR bin. Job done. Matters not to me.

I pay a substantial council tax considering the size of my property which is a small cottage in the country, and the fact that I live in a rual place means that I benefit very little from other services from the council. Ther is no street lighting, parks, regular buses, leisure centres or anything really that I might wish to use. I feel that I pay this huge tax just to have my rubbish removed and now that it is only removed fortnightly they have effectively cut my service in half but have not cut the cost. And now they are treating me as if I am a school girl, ticking me off with officious stickers with ludicrous threats. They must be aware that people are angry and annoyed by this cut in service so you would think that they would adopt a more polite way of sending a message. If they are not careful I may just send one myself – there’s a lot of dog muck that needs clearing up around here. Um, where shall I put it?

Occasional Scribbles

The Garden

Strange Happenings

Rubbish Rage

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