A Gardener’s Gospel – Week 7
Valentine’s Day has come and gone with shop-bought flowers filling my vases. Of course I know the tiger lilies, chrysanthemums, statys and roses were pampered in a hot house in Holland, but they do put my meagre home-grown dafs to shame. Never mind, it’s early days and by Mother’s Day I’m sure I’ll be able to pick me old mum a bunch from the garden.
Taming the Jungle
But while the spring flowers look promising, the lawn is another matter. I moved into this house five years ago and took ownership of a weed infested jungle. Continue reading ‘The Patchwork Lawn’
A Gardener’s Gospel – week 6
It’s early February and I’ve just had my birthday. My husband and I are having coffee on the patio in unseasonal sunshine while our three-year-old daughter plays on her slide. The hound-from-hell, forgiven after last week’s indiscretion, is running around her 10m x 10m kingdom in a frenetic figure eight.
In my 38 years I can’t remember ever sitting in sunshine wearing a light cotton top on my birthday – in the UK anyway. The beginning of February was always a time of ice and snow, crisp grass and brave little snow drops challenging the elements. But now I look around me and see daffodils about to bloom, a rose bush that has continued to flower throughout the winter and chives that never died down. The St John’s Wort is already springing to life and I’m amazed to see some tulip stems already three inches above the soil. Continue reading ‘Confessions of Floracidal Maniac’
Space to grow
It’s the end of January and in between the snow, hail and gales there are signs that the garden will soon burst into life. I had particularly high hopes for my ornamental bath flower bed. My husband and I salvaged the old iron tub from some neighbours who were ‘modernising’. It was a sickly faded pink, so I got a pot of metal paint and spruced it up to a bright garden green. I hoped at first to grow some vegetables in it - garlic, onions, tomatoes, cantelope peppers and lettuce. Yes, all of that in a five feet by one foot tin tub. Continue reading ‘A Gardener’s Gospel - Week 5′
It was 16 August 1977 and my family and I were driving back from a holiday in Scotland. My dad stopped at a petrol station to fill up and my brother and I jumped out of the car to use the facilities. When I came out of the toilets, my mother was sitting in the front seat, sobbing uncontrollably and my dad was smiling apologetically at the attendant.
‘What’s wrong mum?’ I asked.
She was too overcome to speak and simply pointed a shaky finger at a newspaper billboard: THE KING IS DEAD.
‘But we have a queen, not a king,’ I said.
‘Not a real king,’ said my dad, bundling my brother and I back into the car. ‘Elvis Presley. The King of Rock ‘n Roll.’ Continue reading ‘The King is Dead - the Cult of Elvis Worship’
Welcome to my site - I'm Fiona Veitch Smith, a freelance journalist, author, playwright and writing teacher. This site contains thoughts and articles I've written on a range of topics. I hope you find them useful.
