23 April - Gardens & Middle A
I mean, since when do I give a f x about plants? Back in '86/7 when I bought my first property I remember distinctly deciding with my cohabitant D. that we would not look at flats with gardens as we were always out day and night and we could think of nothing worse than have to tend a garden and since ours, if we had one, would turn into a jungle in 4 weeks, we steered well away from one. Plus I hated basements and they seemed to be the only ones with gardens attached (of course neither of us had the cash to buy houses, a flat it had to be). So there, get to the wrong side of forty and wooo, coooo, look at them flowers/plants and, I kid you not, I stood and watched a red robin in the new garden for as long as he pecked about the other day. I guess it was the novelty factor or I hope it is, rather than some contemplative state peculiar to the old.
Then again, if that's what they do, time goes faster that way surely. Bit like being doped up. And it's true that I want an old person's home high backed reading chair...
But maybe just buy me a recording studio quality speakers and give me some rave music to just remember I ain't old yet.
Labels: age
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