Weeds and blight

If you leave your garden unattended for 3 weeks, when you come back it is a jungle. You look at all the other gardeners from China, Cambodia, Afghanistan, Kurdistan and you marvel at how neat their gardens look and how well the onions and marrows have grown.

You have chickweed, dandylions, thistles, ragwort, horsetailed ferns, nettles, buttercups, and a host of other plants that you don't know the names of. They smother and suffocate your onions and turnips and peas. You wonder if it is worthwhile trying to salvage anything, or just abandon everything to the weeds.

You examine the potato shaws and see that they are yellowed and withering. You dig in the ground only to find the shoots are slimey with a black rot. The potatos themselves a grey mushy mass.



The mother-in-law had heard on the radio that due to the long rainy summer season Finnish farmers are complaining that their crops have been hit by potato blight, but it is only when you put your fingers in that rotting mess that you understand that you are coming in contact with the fungus phytophtera infestans that caused the potato famine in Ireland and was responsible for the deaths of thousands of people due to starvation.



Lilies of the Valley by David Byrne

Momma she had complications
There’s nothing very strange about that
Nuns said we can’t kill that baby
We’ll have to let your mother die

We are all just lilies of the valley
We neither reap nor sow
We need to get our hands a little dirty
To make our gardens grow, hey hey

Way too many people on this island
Getting way too crowded on this boat
Need someone to bail some water
If we’re gonna keep this thing afloat

I like a little sugar in my coffee
I don’t mean sweet ’n’ low
You don’t know what you want until you find it
I believe you’ll tell me so

I need a little water in my garden
I need a little sunlight on my head
I need someone to cover me with kisses
When I’m all alone and scared

We are all just lilies of the valley
We neither reap nor sow
We need to get our hands a little dirty
To make our gardens grow

I like a little sugar in my coffee
I don’t mean sweet ’n’ low
I'd like you to cover me with kisses
To make my garden grow