Do books have hands?
Nov. 14th, 2019 10:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
todayiamadaisy"Brian Next Door mowed his front lawn this morning," said my mother, "and then he crossed the driveway and mowed ours too." Well, that was nice of him. "So I gave him a container full of those biscuits." So: lawn mown, and we have a sensible amount of biscuits left. Wins all round.
Brian brought the empty biscuit container back in the evening. Retired gardener that he is, he did his usual wander around the garden to dispense advice. "You'll want to put some Epsom Salts on that lime tree soon. Those nasturtiums are crowding that geranium... What is that?"
What he was looking at were two unattractive potted plants that I rescued from work. Some sort of mystery spiky-leafed mini-tree things growing unevenly. They've been sitting, unloved and dusty, in our front window for the whole year I've been there, getting no direct light and only a little water as the trays they're in kept overflowing. So a month ago I parked my car out the front and dragged the plants out onto the street and drove them home. The next day, I replaced them in the window with a large and realistic fake potted fig. I mean, it's not as beneficial for the office as real greenery, but it's certainly better for the plant.
Anyway, I've now got two large (nearly as tall as me) potted plants at the back door. I repotted them when I brought them home; they were both root bound, poor loves. I've got them under the verandah roof as I don't want to expose them fully to the elements just yet, but they're getting fresh air and daylight and they've both put out some shiny new leaves. It's all going well, then.
So Brian saw them and I told him their sad history and he fixed on the bit about not getting enough water. "What you want to do," he said, "is fill a bucket with water and put the whole pot in it for a day. Here, fill that bucket there and I'll lift the plant for you." He grabbed plant #1 by the trunk and lifted it, thinking it would bring the pot with it. But, newly repotted, it hadn't had a chance to settle, so instead Brian made a most amusing "EURK!" noise when he realised that he'd lifted the poor plant right out of its pot.
"I might go home for a cup of tea and one of those biscuits," he said after patting the plant in firmly.
Brian brought the empty biscuit container back in the evening. Retired gardener that he is, he did his usual wander around the garden to dispense advice. "You'll want to put some Epsom Salts on that lime tree soon. Those nasturtiums are crowding that geranium... What is that?"
What he was looking at were two unattractive potted plants that I rescued from work. Some sort of mystery spiky-leafed mini-tree things growing unevenly. They've been sitting, unloved and dusty, in our front window for the whole year I've been there, getting no direct light and only a little water as the trays they're in kept overflowing. So a month ago I parked my car out the front and dragged the plants out onto the street and drove them home. The next day, I replaced them in the window with a large and realistic fake potted fig. I mean, it's not as beneficial for the office as real greenery, but it's certainly better for the plant.
Anyway, I've now got two large (nearly as tall as me) potted plants at the back door. I repotted them when I brought them home; they were both root bound, poor loves. I've got them under the verandah roof as I don't want to expose them fully to the elements just yet, but they're getting fresh air and daylight and they've both put out some shiny new leaves. It's all going well, then.
So Brian saw them and I told him their sad history and he fixed on the bit about not getting enough water. "What you want to do," he said, "is fill a bucket with water and put the whole pot in it for a day. Here, fill that bucket there and I'll lift the plant for you." He grabbed plant #1 by the trunk and lifted it, thinking it would bring the pot with it. But, newly repotted, it hadn't had a chance to settle, so instead Brian made a most amusing "EURK!" noise when he realised that he'd lifted the poor plant right out of its pot.
"I might go home for a cup of tea and one of those biscuits," he said after patting the plant in firmly.