Thursday, December 9, 2010

A Tasty Surprise

I am a poor gardener, and a lazy and impatient one.

My compost, for example, is spread around the garden long before it has reached that crumbly, sweet-smelling stage.  Before, in fact, it has really composted at all.  Rather than compost, some might call it rubbish.  Amongst my seedlings a keen eye can pick out whole apples, pumpkins, newspapers and even the odd not-terribly-compostible thing, like an onion bag or a wine bottle.

Anyway, a little while ago I had an urge to plant things.  I'm not sure what came over me - perhaps I'd been watching Backyard Blitz, or perhaps the way the post-apocalyptic moonscape of our front yard was attracting foxes and carrion birds was starting to get to me.  Whatever it was, I felt I wasn't going to feel fulfilled until I had spent hundreds of dollars and many hours planting a shrubbery.

Unsure where to begin on the Shrubbery Project, I thought I would build a mound.  Plants like mounds, they are a fail safe conversation starter and they add enormous value to house prices.

So I emptied the compost bin on to the lawn, threw on some potting mix, chicken poo and lucerne that I found in the garage, and inserted some plants.  

I was very proud of my Shrubbery and I loved it.

And my Shrubbery was nurtured by my love and by the mystery nutrients of the compost, and lo it did grow and grow and grow.

And grow.

And it became a big green monster that scared away all the foxes.

And it grew some things that I hadn't even asked it to grow, but I left them there out of a mixture of fear and curiosity.

But then the Fella beheld my Shrubbery, and he said that the mystery things were not Good Things, and that we should remove them because they were bullying our very expensive proper plants.

So we pulled up the biggest one, and guess what we found underneath.....

Thousands upon thousands of magnificent purple potatoes!  Well, sixteen of them.

And I wasn't the only one licking my lips.


  1. O live pitatmoes. Lately O have been biolong them on thoer skons and ciikong them on curroes etc. MMMM PITATMOES. MMMMM

    PS O live yoir cimputer art. Yiu must have a lit if tome in yiur hands. The vulture and fix are amazong.




  2. You know I cannot grow potatoes when I deliberately set out to do so. I may have to try your method.


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