Stella always has an amusing slant to put on even the most everyday events and objects!
NURSERY TALK
BY
STELLA LEONARD
When I first moved into my new house the garden was composed of bare sandy soil
and small piles of rubble.
Five years later I have a pleasing lawn sweeping round to the back patio, which
forms a braai area. The yellow honeysuckle and mauve potato bushes have grown
profusely, covering my high walls. A forest elder planted two years ago is flourishing,
as are the Viburnum and other evergreen bushes in my miniature forest.
I mention this to assure you that I have studied gardening magazines and books with
great interest. So how could I have made such a ghastly mistake, and ended up with
a spectacular weed growing happily among my small group of nursery cuttings.
It began a couple of months ago when I noticed an offshoot from the honeysuckle,
which had rooted itself firmly into the soil next to the mother plant. Or so I thought!
Having washed and disinfected a colourful pot, I filled it with a few choice pebbles
and topsoil. Then carefully lifted the baby plant into its new home.
I have about six pots of individual cuttings growing on the front stoep. They are
clustered together for easy watering, and for the morning pep talk I give them, about
growing strong and healthy and eating all their seaweed vitamins.
The evening routine is similar. I enjoy a small sherry while reclining in the garden
chair, and watch visiting frogs hop between the plant pots. My plants and I bask in
this pleasant atmosphere, disturbed only by the harsh reality of a garden service
once a week.
So it was with shock and horror, I recently became aware that my newest cutting was
growing faster and further in all directions. It had no resemblance to a honeysuckle
and was sprouting small weed-like daisy flowers with fluff attached.
The dilemma is - what do I do now? Having admonished it to grow well, it has done
exactly that. Nodding its many heads in the breeze it seems to smile and say, “Look
at me, I’m bigger and better than all the rest.’
The small lavender and verbena cuttings have come to look upon this plant as a
sibling. They would be horrified if I yanked it from the pot, and threw its lifeless body
into the rubbish bin. I can hear them all shouting ‘murderer,’ while refusing to eat their
seaweed.
I cannot in good conscience withhold water when sprinkling the others, and would
feel weed’s pain if left to crumble and die.
So what do I do? As it grows bigger it will be casting seeds all over the garden.
When Daisy Weed reaches six feet high and begs to be repotted, how can I break
the ties between us?
For now I simply push the problem to the back of my mind and hope that with the first
winter frost, super weed will shrivel up and migrate to weed heaven.
So it’s back to the drawing board, or the gardening books. There are still many
lessons to be learned. New landscapes to explore. Bushes to trim. Compost to be
scattered far and wide. And, most importantly, the nightly sundowner on my peaceful
stoep!