I Swing Back Up

Tuesday 5th May 2020

I’ve swung back up. Don’t ask me why. It’s going to be either herd or disappearance of the thing. By October. You mark my words. Not easy. Pain and risk can’t be avoided. But things are edging in the direction suggested by Professor Johan Giesecke.

Yesterday I took two lettuces and some lovage given me by Merle Barr to Aunt Lavinia who couldn’t get BBC iPlayer to work. That involved dangerous handling of her iPad. Luckily I had hand san with. Then I called on Laura Malcolm and Matt Driver. Laura let me in through the back passage. I sat on their terrace and had coffee and cake. Lockdown crumbling. It was a plum jam cake in Martha Stewart’s recipe.  Incredibly dangerous cup of coffee. Matt Driver appeared, not seen for six weeks except through the window. ‘You’ve got more chance of being killed in a car crash in London at the moment than catching Corona virus,’ he said. I hope he’s right. ‘We’ve had enough of it,’ Laura said. ‘If they don’t do something soon, there won’t be any society left.’ Their neighbour loomed on her balcony above, barely 2 metres away, and said she was going to report them. Well, not in fact. But she’d never appeared on that balcony before in 15 years of being neighbours. Another neighbour was waving maniacally from his home office.

I’d gone there to recover some white cosmos seeds, having over-given my entire supply a week or two ago. Laura didn’t seem to have the idea that seeds have to be sown. Originally she said she wanted something to look forward to. She’d got as far putting some in a cup but it wasn’t looking hopeful for seeds with her generally.  ‘They don’t really suit me,’ she said. ‘I can’t be watching over them. Wretched little things. They don’t grow fast enough.’

So that was that.

I’m still colour-washing the woodwork in my dining room. Thought the window agony was over. But the colour looks wrong. Despite exactly the same colour looking perfectly all right in other parts of the room. How could that be? Did I mention that for 23 years the woodwork in my dining room was glazed with a glaze of raw umber, yellow ochre and the tiniest bit of black, while the floor colour was made from chrome green, ultramarine, raw umber and the tiniest bit of black and Naples yellow?  I’ve lived with that for 23 years. Not matching. It wasn’t planned not to match. Just got like that. In parts the woodwork has flaked and cracked. Not surprisingly after 23 years. So now am trying to match. Why? When one of my regrets in life is going down the matching set path in early life, a path which once embarked upon it’s very difficult to reverse out of. You’re stuck with too many matching sets which inevitably have parts missing. But it’s no use trying to pretend they’re harlequin. Anybody can see through that in a second.

So why not am I trying to make my dining room woodwork match? I should have thought of something quite different.

My Seedlings Such as Laura Malcolm can't be Doing with

My Seedlings Such as Laura Malcolm can’t be Doing with

Here the Colour is All right: My Dining Room Woodwork being Repainted

Here the Colour is All right: My Dining Room Woodwork being Repainted

Here It is Too Green

Here It is Too Green

 

 

 

Posted Tuesday, May 5, 2020 under Adrian Edge day by day.

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2 comments

  1. Laura Malcolm says:

    I’m definitely planting those seeds tomorrow, inspired by your photo of a hopeful tray of sturdy seedlings, If mine fail to germinate, you’ll have to cycle over again and bring some plantlets. In fact you could plant them for me at a safe distance from my zero gravity reclining chair.

  2. Adrian Edge says:

    You can have some of those zinnias. I’ll do Cosmos as well.

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