Messy
Were you ever scolded as a child -or do you scold your own children- for making a mess? The answer for most of us is probably “you bet”. I submit though that it’s in our natural nature to love a good mess. I think it’s satisfying to fling things and gratifying to tidy up. This morning I admired the aftermath of this weekend’s storm (nature flung things).
My boss, Julie had already picked up sticks in the Bosquet and made piles – sometimes I think she’s actually tempted to go out in a storm and catch sticks as they fall. When I asked Fred if he wanted/needed extra hands (mine) to help clean up he said “it’s not that bad. Unless you have a burning desire to pick up sticks…” I don’t. It’s always less fun to pick up someone else’s mess, don’t you think?
So after doing some stick-picking-up anyway, I made my own mess.
I love to pot up. The potting shed is designed to contain messes. I can spill soil with wanton abandon and groom dead leaves straight onto a floor pile. I don’t have to be careful of the furniture! Today I took the wedding pots apart and divided and repotted the phormiums. Phormiums (New Zealand flax) aren’t as hard to divide as you’d think. I set them on the floor and parted the blades until I found a mid point with at least a semblance of a seam between the fans of blades. Then I stabbed the seam with my hori-hori and wrestled until I felt and heard the rip tear of roots. It was totally satisfying mess making… and I can’t put off the gratification of cleaning up any longer… Do you have a place you can make a proud and uncareful mess?
It just occurred to messy-me that I should tell you that those fingernails will be clean next Thursday for the Annual Garden Design Luncheon and there are still some seats available!