Tuesday, June 24, 2008

pride, evolution, unexpected buds

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For many years I have stopped to pass the time of day with these ladies on London's South Bank. The sculpture is by Frank Dobson and is called London Pride.

As I walked past the office just off the South Bank where I used to work 25 years or more years ago, I was struck by the thought that I had shared the room with an old fashioned office typewriter. It had keys that clattered like a machine gun. There were carbon paper and white bottles of correction fluid and the smell of typewriter ribbon. I suppose I might be nostalgic but I'm not.

For some years now we have had an agapanthus in a pot. For the last couple of years it has not flowered. But I heard someone say on the radio that, although the roots like to be crowded, they also liked to be fed. Ours had not been fed. This year over generous applications of feed have resulted in at least five buds, shooting up among the spikey leaves.

1 comment:

Barrett Bonden said...

I have a Remington portable (the word is used loosely) which I acquired in the early fifties as an essential tool for journalism. It crossed the Atlantic and returned. It still works. I cannot bear to throw it away but I'd give it to a worthwhile cause if such existed.