Well, I finally relented and decided it was time to give up the idea of being nice to the slugs that annually chomp away on the mint, basil, garlic and spuds that I endeavour to grow in the scrap of soil I get to call a garden. As previously mentioned, eggshells don’t work, someone else advised me to scatter porridge oats over the soil instead but come on, I’m Scottish… I eat porridge for breakfast, why would I feed slugs what I feed myself?!
So, the end result is that while I was buying organic weedkiller I gave in and bought slug pellets which assure me that after consumption the slug will crawl underground and die, decompose and prove to be a rather small bit of fertilizer… We’ll see. I don’t really like the idea of killing them slowly so I hope it works fairly quickly.
I’ve decided not to grow potatoes this year, instead I’ve decided on red onions. I figure I eat way more onions than I do potatoes so it would make more sense to grow something I’m going to eat a lot of…
Damn… This blog is fast becoming a gardeners roadshow-esque affair…. Should I mention the dilemma I’m having as to moving the fuchsia plant from one end of the garden to the other? I fear that if I dig it up it may die but I know that once its in bloom I’ll wish I moved it to a spot which allowed me to enjoy the full splendour of the colours?! Oh well, perhaps next year….
In other news, only a month and a few days till I see Donna. She’s coming down to see The Editors at Brixton Academy, which should be a good gig. Amy arrives from Australia tomorrow so I’m also looking forward to seeing her again, around 6years since we last saw each other so thank goodness for MSN!! Jolene, also from Australia arrives in England in June but I’m not sure my finance will now allow me to join her in Berlin for the Love Parade in July… We’ll see…
My neighbour, or rather one of them, just knocked on the door to ask if I’d turn the music down, I keep forgetting that since Winton and Bridget moved out that I have to temper the volume, I’ve been spoilt in playing it fairly loud without any complaints. Ironically, I was playing Louise Attaque, one of my favourite albums from 1997. In case you, dear reader, are unfamiliar with them, they are a French band, originally from Marseilles. What is the point of me telling you that? Well, the neighbour who knocked on my door was French and not only did she ask if I wouldn’t mind turning it down a little, she wondered if I would lend her the CD!! It’s just a pity she is gorgeous, I’m not sure I can cope with an attractive neighbour… What will I do if she turns out to be single?!
As an aside, I just allowed Blogger’s spell checker to run it’s eye over this entry as I’m feeling lazy and it doesn’t recognise the word ‘blog’ you’d think it would be in it’s memory?! Mind you it doesn’t recognise half my words as I seemingly don’t write American-English… That’s quite possibly because American-English is not a language, English is and most probably the native language of the American Indians is but American English is, to all extents, a dialect.