An English In Kentucky


















May 17th 2011    Tim Candler

    There are some who take a particular pleasure in holding a secret.  Apparently in the garden somewhere a sprout has emerged that I have not noticed.  This sprout is not the Sunflower growing amongst Strawberry.  Nor is it a line of Tigger Melon along a Cucumber trellis.

     Generally there is a 'smart-arse' reckoning at the end of these games.  There will be jumping around and gleefulness.  And a sort of warbling that will last long into the year as this sprout achieves the full spirit of its life, where I guess it too will have a tendril ready to trip me as I pass by it.

     When he is old and decrepit and virtually blind, when he is trying to remember why there is no Potato patch this year, when his Wax Gourds are suffering, when there are Doves in his Bean bed, when his neck muscles are damaged from sneezing,  a gardener turns to the political game. 

    Which often works because I have already been given hints as to the character of this sprout.  A couple more days of stumbling around and helplessness and those who take pleasure in holding secrets might suggest, "Near the Carrots, the Chard and the Snake Gourd."     

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