Myrtle Claus
It tickles me. A little less when it rains, but as soon as the sun shines, it's back. The blossoms that are slowly coming to the trees make it worse. Just like that green haze that appears. The first spring flowers to bloom.
If it were up to me, I'd put on my oldest jeans and sweater and disappear. But I still have a lot to do and so I wait with difficulty for the first sunny Saturday. 'Cause then I'll go, whatever it takes. To my stamp-sized paradise. Down the stairs, on my way to my garden.
garden jitters
Those garden jitters of mine are actually something from the last few years. I used to have absolutely no problem with it. Gardens, trees, shrubs, bulbs, seeds and perennials, it could all be stolen from me. But people change with time and so do I. There is nothing I like more than diving into the garden as soon as spring is in the air. Getting things ready for the new season. Swipe leaves together. Raking gravel. Weeding. Pruning roses. Pamper emerging flowers. Push balls into the ground. Sprinkle seeds around. And to give everything just that extra boost, a grain of manure here and there.
Rooting in the earth
Really, nothing is more relaxing than digging into the soil with your hands while imagining how everything will grow and bloom in the future. Although, it is not quite true, relaxing with your hands in the earth. Since I live in Italy, rooting in the earth has taken on an extra dimension. So I wear gloves. Not because I don't want to show myself in public with black mourning edges under my fingernails until well into September. New. The reason is quite different.
Slippery and creepers
Because it is wonderful to be busy in the garden. But, and that is purely personal, it is less pleasant to be accompanied by all the arthropod garden scum that also want to enjoy the first rays of the sun after a long winter. And so it slips through your fingers at the most unexpected moments. Or crawling over your hands. Or some other way to show it's there.
All garden scum
Is that so bad, I hear you think, what does that mean, such an animal. If you think that the difference in length between the average Italian and the average Dutch person also applies to the difference in size among the critters in the garden, nothing of course. But then you are absolutely wrong.
I can guarantee you that the garden scum thrives very well in the Italian climate. They are all just a bit bigger than their Dutch counterparts. And there are more. Much more. And in colors that do not immediately make you happy. Blackish brown, greyish gray white, black with red stripes and spots, silvery.
If you consider that my heart in the Netherlands already beat faster when lifting a boulder, followed by a heart attack when seeing a hobbling woodlice, you can imagine that working in the garden without gloves is absolutely not an option for me. Quite frankly, even working in the garden now and then equals a real 'living on the edge' experience when meeting unexpectedly.
I got used to it… a bit
You get used to the years, the company of all those critters. I am now mentally prepared for garden scum. And be less shocked if suddenly such a feeler comes running from under something again. Stones remain exciting. Not anymore because of Mr. Pissebed and his family. I even find it funny these days. But because of other residents who like to hide under it.
It is therefore a pity that it did not freeze considerably this winter. Just to prevent overpopulation. Because after the temperatures of the past few months, I'm afraid that my little paradise will be full. In terms of green and in terms of fidgeting. And that I not only put on gloves, but also have to use coarser guns to literally keep everything within limits!
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