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April 20th  2011    Tim Candler

    Definitely time for Bean seeds.  But a gardener worries about heavy rain and Tomato seedlings.  The splattering and puddles lift pox from the earth.  Then the sun comes out and brings with it a humidity through which pestilence can swim. 

    And there they all are safe in the kitchen, lines of them staring out of the window with a wishfulness that is tragic to think about.  Little Eggplants too, oblivious to the slaughter outside where Hoppy Bugs already have their napkins, knives and forks.

    Sometimes you just want to stamp a foot, look at the sky and say cruel things.  The Old Me would already have reached for the epithets, given them full rein and a chance to gallop. The New Me doesn't do that sort of thing, instead he stimulates his rage by reading and re-reading  planting advice from others.

    May is just ten days away, for God's sake.  December 31st was one hundred and ten days ago.

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