Unlikely Garden

I’ve had 2 ideas for writing simmering in my mind all weekend.  Like the pulled-pork we had for dinner tonight, they need to slow cook.   So, I’ll stir them and stick them back in the oven.

In the meantime, this morning, I started to dust and clean off some shelves.  I found:

  •  many many buttons
  • a golden thimble
  • keys that open doors I no longer walk through
  • 3 mittens for the right hand (3 different sizes and patterns)
  • a copy of the poem Self-Portrait, ‘the thirty eighth year’, by Lucille Clifton
  • 1500 liras, a 2-dollar bill, a buffalo nickel, 2 indian head pennies, a note for 5 Japanese centavos
  • An oyster card for the London Underground
  • milk teeth
  • my purple triangle earrings that I didn’t realise had gone missing
  • golden bells from China on a red checked ribbon
  • smooth stones, rough stones, and old conkers (buckeyes / horse chestnuts)
  • game pieces
  • safety pins and picture hanging hardware
  • an empty wooden box

I gathered and dusted them all: the precious and the ordinary, the treasures who have outlived their purpose, the trinkets out of context,  the utilitarian, the useful, the everyday.  An unlikely jumble, an accidental garden, nourished by neglect, giving me great pleasure to tend on a Sunday morning.

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3 Responses to Unlikely Garden

  1. Becky Shankland says:

    Sweet! The clutter of life is so endearing.


  2. Don’t suppose you found that crucial lego piece..you know the one… it’s the one that makes a simple car into a laser-firing-superhero-mega-vehicle? No? Hmmm.. no doubt I will stand on it over the next few days. You have a lovely garden. xx


  3. Melissa says:

    Oh is that what that lego piece was? Oh well…it’s gone back deep into the garden’s soil. Don’t imagine we’ll see it again for a few years now.


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