Whatever Steven Hawking says about nothingness and things less than 'ness, it is possible to go backwards.
I'm not a gardener. My fingers are deeply coated with the fine grains of London concrete not Pennsylvanian mulch; when I look at a plot of empty land I see the possibility for a modern interpretation of a Frank Lloyd Wright building, not the first growth of a bunch of Brussels Sprouts.
I tried to fool myself and I failed. At last. New day, new lesson.
Try this...
www.streetroad.org
This is more to my taste because all I have to do is contribute the occasionally pithy but still bland and meaningless paragraph.
Having made a career on bland and meaningless I'm a rocket star for this.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Day Twenty Four
Is it possible for less than nothing to happen?
Mr. Hawking?
Anyway, while nothing at all was happening in the "garden", Emily was moving into her studio at the Delaware Museum of Contemporary Arts - http://www.thedcca.org/
And here is Old Uncle Jim, master grower of rhubarb; why is my memory of growing up on Brackenbury Road bursting with images of me scoffing bowls of slightly sweet but mainly sour rhubarb crumble?
My sister sent me this photograph - we think it was taken outside of the Finchley Lido (my guess is the 1950's).
It's an interesting photo; there's the unseen lady with an elegant white shoe, and two men in mid-step, both indifferent to the camera. It would be hard to stage something that perfectly.
Mr. Hawking?
Anyway, while nothing at all was happening in the "garden", Emily was moving into her studio at the Delaware Museum of Contemporary Arts - http://www.thedcca.org/
And here is Old Uncle Jim, master grower of rhubarb; why is my memory of growing up on Brackenbury Road bursting with images of me scoffing bowls of slightly sweet but mainly sour rhubarb crumble?
My sister sent me this photograph - we think it was taken outside of the Finchley Lido (my guess is the 1950's).
It's an interesting photo; there's the unseen lady with an elegant white shoe, and two men in mid-step, both indifferent to the camera. It would be hard to stage something that perfectly.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Day Ten
Emily has suggested that in addition to Derek Jarman I should also look to the masters for inspiration; Capability Brown, Inigo Jones and Old Uncle Jim.
Mr. Brown.
Mr. Jones.
Old Uncle Jim tended an allotment in East Finchley, directly behind the Martin Primary school, and he occasionally produced a sweet nugget of substance, but mainly I recall my mother concocting our dinner from endless bags of rhubarb, runner beans, swedes and turnips.
Unless I have an epiphany in the next couple days I'm siding with Derek Jarman's vision of landscaping.
Mr. Brown.
Mr. Jones.
Old Uncle Jim tended an allotment in East Finchley, directly behind the Martin Primary school, and he occasionally produced a sweet nugget of substance, but mainly I recall my mother concocting our dinner from endless bags of rhubarb, runner beans, swedes and turnips.
Unless I have an epiphany in the next couple days I'm siding with Derek Jarman's vision of landscaping.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Day Nine
At this reckless and breathless rate of achievement we should be munching on those sweet green peas sometime in 2015.
Frankly, less than nothing has happened on the patch. I use that cliche correctly; I'm having doubts (if I was a catholic they would be deemed good doubts) about the grand and promised vegetable patch.
I'm conflicted between the lure of the ripe purple beauty of an aubergine and the continuous attention and effort required to grow the thing.
The doubts began on Monday (much like Graham Greene's 'Whisky Priest' in The Power and The Glory it began with a struggle)...I was struggling hopelessly in the afternoon in hay and sodden earth with a stubborn sprinkler when Emily came to my rescue, adjusted the faucet, fixed the hose pipe, put the horrid thing in the most suitable position, and then said "Do you really want to do this?"
It really penetrated my thick pumpkin when we were driving home and Emily said "I fixed it wearing heels - you hate getting your hands dirty and have a breakdown if you get mud on your shoes". Don't you just hate it when the truth is punched into your 'that's-not-me' way of thinking?
So, born-on-concrete Londoner that I am and on wise advice I'm now leaning towards a more stable, less hands-on, solution to The Small Green Patch.
Perhaps something like this - but incorporating plants that withstand the brutal difference between summer and winter in Eastern Pennsylvania - the late Derek Jarman's garden in Dungeness, Kent, in England (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Derek_Jarman).
Mr. Jarman had a decent eye.
Frankly, less than nothing has happened on the patch. I use that cliche correctly; I'm having doubts (if I was a catholic they would be deemed good doubts) about the grand and promised vegetable patch.
I'm conflicted between the lure of the ripe purple beauty of an aubergine and the continuous attention and effort required to grow the thing.
The doubts began on Monday (much like Graham Greene's 'Whisky Priest' in The Power and The Glory it began with a struggle)...I was struggling hopelessly in the afternoon in hay and sodden earth with a stubborn sprinkler when Emily came to my rescue, adjusted the faucet, fixed the hose pipe, put the horrid thing in the most suitable position, and then said "Do you really want to do this?"
It really penetrated my thick pumpkin when we were driving home and Emily said "I fixed it wearing heels - you hate getting your hands dirty and have a breakdown if you get mud on your shoes". Don't you just hate it when the truth is punched into your 'that's-not-me' way of thinking?
So, born-on-concrete Londoner that I am and on wise advice I'm now leaning towards a more stable, less hands-on, solution to The Small Green Patch.
Perhaps something like this - but incorporating plants that withstand the brutal difference between summer and winter in Eastern Pennsylvania - the late Derek Jarman's garden in Dungeness, Kent, in England (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Derek_Jarman).
Mr. Jarman had a decent eye.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Day One
This record of our adventures with a scruffy piece of land is a continuation of this...
http://thesmallwhitehouse.blogspot.com/
The dull photo's below are a more than adequate indication that not much has happened yet.
So, an Opinel gentleman's pocket knife that I drove over to Styer's to buy on Monday evening.
http://www.shopterrain.com/.
It's value will become apparent when I trip over some twine that needs cutting - doesn't every vegetable patch have twine strewn all over it?
http://thesmallwhitehouse.blogspot.com/
The dull photo's below are a more than adequate indication that not much has happened yet.
So, an Opinel gentleman's pocket knife that I drove over to Styer's to buy on Monday evening.
http://www.shopterrain.com/.
It's value will become apparent when I trip over some twine that needs cutting - doesn't every vegetable patch have twine strewn all over it?
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