Our part of Blightly has been remarkably hot this month – and dry. Parts of my yard have taken on the consistency of concrete. F is wondering whether we should put out a bird bath.
I am quite clear on this – we shouldn’t.
There is a stream across the road – flowing water, fresh at
any second, with a ramp for access and overhanging branches for birds to hang
their laundry out to dry. Any water in a
dish in my yard will only get green and be a breeding ground for biting
insects. We saw a ‘hint’ the other day which
suggested that we should keep small fish in our garden water butts so that they
would eat any larvae of mosquitoes that might develop ‘therein’. I reckon the fish would get boiled in the
black plastic tanks that our rain water is stored in, and it would also mean
that we couldn’t let the water level drop by using the water when we needed it.
As ideas go it is definitely ‘out there’ but the ideas
person who thought that one up hadn’t thought it all the way through.
F needs to get the watering system for our greenhouse up and
running. Our plants will be ready to go
in there in a week or two, and she is still trying to decide how many of the tomatoes,
egg-plants, peppers, chilies and okra she can actually fit in the place. I think she might have too many. She is always reluctant to cull plants she
has nurtured from seed. Last weekend she
managed to give away all the excess okra plants in a deal with makes one of
those spooky music noises that go with something like X Files.
Let me explain – all that bike fixing that F did in NZ was
associated with volunteer work supporting a resettlement program for displaced
people who were being set up in new forever homes in NZ. At the Repair Café, last weekend, back here
in UK, someone wandered up and started chatting when she saw the buckets full
of okra plants that F had brought along to give away. She was a volunteer with a similar
resettlement program in Chichester and they had started a community garden in
the walled garden of the Bishop’s Palace. (It seems that the Bishop wasn’t
using his walled garden and the community proposal to put it to good use was
accepted and …. well that is where the okra went.)
Do do do do doo do…
Anna (because that was her name) is coming back next month
for the surplus tomatillos.
Anyone at all could have claimed the okra. Why a volunteer working with resettled refugees? F says that coincidence is just that – coincidence. It happens more than we realize, it isn’t spooky and there is some fairly simple maths for working out the probabilities – try thisfor size…
And anyway, it is only coincidence in the remotest sense,
that F had some tangential connection to people involved in the two unrelated
programs. She has heard that we are all only 7 connections (maximum) removed from any other person in the world.
I still say it’s weird.
Yep. Weird.
ReplyDeleteP tried to plant some small shrubs this week that a kind lady had given to him. He had to use the wrecking bar to hammer a hole in the soil before he could plant them. They got a thorough watering so hope they survive.
I have never heard it said about the seven connections but I do believe that now that you have said it here. I found it happens a lot things like what happened to you about the okra. By the way I was raised in the south in USA and in the south okra is a staple food and my daddy always grew it and I hated to cut it or clean it because it always got stickies in my hand. Glad to know you eat okra over there to a lot of the people here and other parts of the USA don’t know what okra is and most won’t eat it.
ReplyDelete'There are more things in heaven and earth, Tigger, than are dreamt of in your philosophy'
ReplyDeletePeople doing good in their communities are worth their weight in gold.
Hari OM
ReplyDeleteI think, Tigger dear, you refer to the Six Degrees of Separation; a wonderful fact about our interconnectedness! Also, rather than coincidence, (the appearance of a meaningful connection when there is none), I like to think that this wonderful hook-up of ways and means that F experienced is serendipitious. An unexpected but mutually beneficial exchange. And having recently glanced in at the Bishop's garden in Chichester, and also been a part of ensuring the care of the seedlings, I, by magic of those degrees, feel connected to those okra now! Might have to visit them on my return... hugs and whiskeries, YAM-aunty xxx (who shuddered at the thought of fish in the rain barrel...)
Whoever thought that idea about fish in the rain barrel probably heard about shooting fish in a barrel, complete failure of comprehension, also common sense. Funny about the resettled refugee thread in fs life. I wonder now if internet friendships have narrowed down the six degrees of separation down to one..
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ReplyDeleteI thought all that talk about the weather in the uk being cold and wet was a lie to keep the tourists away.
ReplyDeleteWe only saw rain that first day and none since.
I’m going to go home with a tan!