a couple of weeks I have a new hobby , required: gardening. I bought a new house and live there less than a month. Now I'm on the ground floor and have two beautiful gardens, one on one side of the house, one on top. The gardener did the work (well, it must be said) was a bit too categorical and 'apocalyptic tone:
- "You wanted the lawn, barbecue, garden gnomes, eh? Sundays with friends? And now labors. The lawn should be cut once a week and fertilized every two months. That is, until May. Then, when it's hot, it should be cut two to three times a week. Do not cut too short. And do not let it grow, if you do not turn yellow. "
At these words, though timidly, I tried to argue at least that I hate garden gnomes. But he was relentless:
- "In the summer, I recommend every two to three days. And remember: I want to work that I do, so do 'I is not know you was yellowed, thinning or balding lawn. All right? "
I think I answered him" sir, yes sir " , As he emerged grinning from my house.
I have the black thumb has always been, ever since, as children, the teachers in elementary we used to put a bean inside the wet towel rolls, they told us to close it in the closet of the class and leave it there in the dark for a weeks, when it would grow roots and the new plan would be ready to be buried. My beans rotted always, without fail. Perhaps because, for fear that during the weeks he missed in the dark water, completely soaked towel rolls. Or maybe because they do not resist to stay seven days without knowing what was happening and I was too early to see what had happened to my beans. Now I have a wonderful lawn
Green, who edited with the application. The minions of the gardener arrived one morning with a truck full of rugs rolled up (at least it seemed) and began to lay them out in my garden, until fully carpeted. They explained that for a couple of weeks I should not have walked on, because the lawn "grows much above the earth, as in" . They told me that I should give time to the roots of lawn innervate the soil of my garden. I was good this time: I did not open the cabinet ahead of time.
We all moved to new house. I thought this morning that we too are putting white roots, hold in our new garden. Although we are painfully finding space in our rooms, our little places in the sun. And as for the beans in Scottex and turf, for the first few weeks we will be sensitive and we will need to let things have time to do their own course.
Each move forced people to move to a small (or big) auto da fe. Arranging my things, I opened boxes that had remained closed ever since I left my parents' house. At that time, I chose to bring with me my past, like a snail moves below its spiral, or tenendomelo behind, without ever looking at him. This time, I wanted instead to see what it was now time to part and to my pleasant surprise, I was able to get rid of almost half of the statues that I wanted to keep.
Even more, I was rather surprised by what I dearly wanted to keep with me. I found, for example, an incredible amount of letters. I have received many, hundreds, some of them full of wonderful words. In re-reading, after so long, I felt a sense of unease. The question that I made while I dive back into people, situations, and emotions that are out of date, is far "I'll have been able to match all the affection, all the love that's in it for me ? .
For example, I found the letters of my girlfriend of the sea, when we had ten, twelve, maybe thirteen. It was one of my friends of summer July. Each year, his family was from Naples and was the entire month to rent a house close to where I spent the whole first twenty summers of my life. Well, for all the years when we attended, the holidays ended and all returned home, I wrote from September (when you rearrange in "winter") to December (the inevitable Christmas card) of tender letters, full only daily life, school problems, friends envious of cute kids. The words oozed just want to meet the following year. I found
letters from children who wrote to me once back in their cities, after spending several weeks in the holiday village where I was a musician. Some of them have really excited me: virtually none of those children remember the name nor the face and almost everyone, however, only asked me not to forget about them. I wrote a lot of anecdotes and reporting details of the week in which they were in the village, to be sure that I could not confuse them with other children. Almost all put in the envelope a portrait drawing that had me and they greet us at the time of their departure.
do not know if I've really earned much affection. I was definitely not up to it. Inhabited by a sense of inadequacy, I carefully sorted all the words that I have been given away, store away, because it is not damaged, in transparent plastic bags. I then put in a cardboard box, very nice, which is entirely decorated with musical staves, thick with notes and rests.
E, cowardly, I buried again in the basement, away from my eyes and my heart.
- "You wanted the lawn, barbecue, garden gnomes, eh? Sundays with friends? And now labors. The lawn should be cut once a week and fertilized every two months. That is, until May. Then, when it's hot, it should be cut two to three times a week. Do not cut too short. And do not let it grow, if you do not turn yellow. "
At these words, though timidly, I tried to argue at least that I hate garden gnomes. But he was relentless:
- "In the summer, I recommend every two to three days. And remember: I want to work that I do, so do 'I is not know you was yellowed, thinning or balding lawn. All right? "
I think I answered him" sir, yes sir " , As he emerged grinning from my house.
I have the black thumb has always been, ever since, as children, the teachers in elementary we used to put a bean inside the wet towel rolls, they told us to close it in the closet of the class and leave it there in the dark for a weeks, when it would grow roots and the new plan would be ready to be buried. My beans rotted always, without fail. Perhaps because, for fear that during the weeks he missed in the dark water, completely soaked towel rolls. Or maybe because they do not resist to stay seven days without knowing what was happening and I was too early to see what had happened to my beans. Now I have a wonderful lawn
Green, who edited with the application. The minions of the gardener arrived one morning with a truck full of rugs rolled up (at least it seemed) and began to lay them out in my garden, until fully carpeted. They explained that for a couple of weeks I should not have walked on, because the lawn "grows much above the earth, as in" . They told me that I should give time to the roots of lawn innervate the soil of my garden. I was good this time: I did not open the cabinet ahead of time.
We all moved to new house. I thought this morning that we too are putting white roots, hold in our new garden. Although we are painfully finding space in our rooms, our little places in the sun. And as for the beans in Scottex and turf, for the first few weeks we will be sensitive and we will need to let things have time to do their own course.
Each move forced people to move to a small (or big) auto da fe. Arranging my things, I opened boxes that had remained closed ever since I left my parents' house. At that time, I chose to bring with me my past, like a snail moves below its spiral, or tenendomelo behind, without ever looking at him. This time, I wanted instead to see what it was now time to part and to my pleasant surprise, I was able to get rid of almost half of the statues that I wanted to keep.
Even more, I was rather surprised by what I dearly wanted to keep with me. I found, for example, an incredible amount of letters. I have received many, hundreds, some of them full of wonderful words. In re-reading, after so long, I felt a sense of unease. The question that I made while I dive back into people, situations, and emotions that are out of date, is far "I'll have been able to match all the affection, all the love that's in it for me ? .
For example, I found the letters of my girlfriend of the sea, when we had ten, twelve, maybe thirteen. It was one of my friends of summer July. Each year, his family was from Naples and was the entire month to rent a house close to where I spent the whole first twenty summers of my life. Well, for all the years when we attended, the holidays ended and all returned home, I wrote from September (when you rearrange in "winter") to December (the inevitable Christmas card) of tender letters, full only daily life, school problems, friends envious of cute kids. The words oozed just want to meet the following year. I found
letters from children who wrote to me once back in their cities, after spending several weeks in the holiday village where I was a musician. Some of them have really excited me: virtually none of those children remember the name nor the face and almost everyone, however, only asked me not to forget about them. I wrote a lot of anecdotes and reporting details of the week in which they were in the village, to be sure that I could not confuse them with other children. Almost all put in the envelope a portrait drawing that had me and they greet us at the time of their departure.
do not know if I've really earned much affection. I was definitely not up to it. Inhabited by a sense of inadequacy, I carefully sorted all the words that I have been given away, store away, because it is not damaged, in transparent plastic bags. I then put in a cardboard box, very nice, which is entirely decorated with musical staves, thick with notes and rests.
E, cowardly, I buried again in the basement, away from my eyes and my heart.
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