Brimming

Oh i’m brimming.

Yes, despite being the grim-reaper for over half a dozen bonsai to date – although cuttings have strangely happily prospered; whether back into bonsai sized pretty lush green dazzling bushery or huge semi-bonsai things that have sensed escape from their confines and are making a dash for it!

Despite the initial ‘plant it and kill it’ syndrome my attempts seemed wantonly to emulate; the mad impulse which refused to dissipate finally had its way, especially when fully-covered strips of genocidal flypapers continuously assaulted my ever waking vision, leading  me wondering how much more environmentally friendly it would be if a growing bit of flora was enjoying all of those annoying mega-multiplying flies.

Step forward sundew and a friend on the 52^nd parallel, who cordially assisted by buying and carting one all the way down to me, in an attempt to nurture and have something semi-exotic survive.

Cut now to two (or maybe even three) months down the line, and not only is the sundew alive it is positively bursting out of the pot and on the cusp of doing something i never thought it would – especially after undergoing the water-boarding treatment of london tap water (water that has been boiled and left to air for 24 hours), it might actually flower – or seed. 

The amount of light reflected from the usually closed blackout curtains, combined with the overabundance of multiplying small flies, seems to have provided it with more than enough nutrients, light and fortitude so helping it to thrive.

I will have to see whether it survives the winter and three months of 13^oC night-time – 15^oC day-time average temperatures.

Happy days?

It has been a while since the area experienced (relative) tranquillity. 

Over the past three days along with less squeaks from buses brakes, no all day practising from br² even the relative quietness of the night time gig allowed me to have windows open a notch, the odd boy racer (perhaps the rest have found a ditch), less bus horns, less screaming neighbours; and despite this possibly coming across as living in a hell hole, it's not, i haven't heard a police helicopter fly over for at least a day or two; but, it has been three perhaps four even (who's keeping score), gorgeous days with lovely blue skies, few circulating planes - well at least no ever-present steam-trails, which forces me to say (with hand on cold lumpen casket of lead) that living here feels, nice-ish.

This light-hearted air of tranquil-joviality has even extended to, only slightly mind, wishing for the odd bus driver who continues to keep their vehicle engines running whilst stationary at the terminus sending out wave upon wave of bone jarring low frequency vibrations, or mildly beeping his or her  (yes i know who they are) bus horn, to end up in a ditch, naturally without passengers onboard.  Unless, that is, the passengers are of the same ilk as the driver; which should be interpreted as a far happier and milder thought, than the 'string them up by the giblets until they're blackened and maggot infested', which periodically try's to prance its way across my vision. 

In the meantime, my drosera capensis is happily growing despite facing stiff competition from highly effective fly papers, chemical infused tap water, and is thriving in its north facing window, catching and partially consuming a fair portion of flies.

Hopefully, it will survive for a few more months, make it through the winter and seed one day; or be divided and strategically placed in other rooms come the spring of 2011/12 once it's matured; by which time i'd have discovered a reliable gardening establishment, so avoiding the nasty reclaimed 'multi-purpose compost' that seemed to have been scrapped from the sludge off a building site and has seemingly progressed on killing or severely crimping everything planted in it.

In the meantime, here's a picture of the carnivorous triffid, doing its best to redress the flying bug population.  Just need it a bigger bus sized...

Of course it's still early, and there are many hours for things to go pear-shaped.  Which reminds, where have i left my quip carrier? ...