I am not naturally a tidy person, I am not being defiant, I honestly wish I was (tidy not defiant). A better word to describe me is probably “random”. In a former life (not when I was hand maiden to Cleopatra, (that’s another story) what I mean is in a former career) I worked as a PA. Whenever I went on holiday I would warn my colleagues that any temp that took my place (obviously no-one could replace me for long) was not to tidy my desk or they would suffer the consequences (which meant I would cry but I didn’t divulge that part). I did actually know where everything was. One of my favorite saying was “a tidy desk is the sign of a sick mind” which was in part to wind-up the Managing Director’s very precise and well-ordered (but also lovely) assistant. Maybe that was being a little defiant. The potting shed is the latest incarnation of my, what some might say, chaotic persona. I do, naturally, know where everything is (except the rubber that we think the mouse may have stolen). Occasionally however, I crack and today was one of those occasions. I sorted seed and aligned plant trays, and the sight of the anarchic tomato plants irritated me into wishing I had been more vigilant with pinching out side shoots and tying in. Next year all will have to toe the party line. Unfortunately it is my party and I will cry if I want to.
This Phlox paniculata has flowered exceedingly well this year. This is despite its poor treatment by those who should know better. It stands tall and unblemished and smells of pepper.