07 February, 2012

James and the Giant Peach

I've turned my hand to gardening.  Sort of.  I have a vision of a delightful little herb and/or vegetable garden.  What this means, when translated into reality, is that I have three little pots sitting on the back steps.

From left to right, we have Tomato, Basil and er... Unknown.  I think it might be a pot of sunflowers?  You see, last year I bought two handy little planter tubs from Bunnings.  I opened the yellow one, inadvertantly threw away the instructions and packaging for the yellow one, dropped and shattered the yellow one, and then promptly forgot about them for two months.  Come January, I found a neat little red tub clearly labelled as "Tomatoes" and a mystery yellow tub.  Nonetheless, they're alive!  This is a positive thing. 

I do hope to add to my little pot city.  I even went so far as to purchase potting mix and several other seed packets last week.  The seeds were then immediately lost.  I have a vague memory of leaving them on the boot of the car before wandering off to do more amusing things.  As a result, I also have a dreadful feeling that they may be now scattered throughout the suburb.

Mr Bond has shown absolutely no interest in eating or destroying Pot City.  One of the wonderful benefits of neglecting to start a puppy journal for the first two years of said puppy's life, is that I can now pretend that my sensible, mature, okay, lazy dog has been like this from the start.

He tore up a backyard's worth of reticulation?  Nooo, certainly not!  Munched on hundreds of dollars worth of Kreepy Krawly pool hose?  I'm pretty sure you're confusing him for some other puppy...maybe Lucy from down the road?  Declared an innocent pot plant to be his nemesis and tortured it mercilessly until it was moved into the Potplant Protection Programme?  Okay, okay, we get the picture.  He had a few bad habits.  That have since been ironed out.  Mostly. 

But, the beauty of it, is that he has essentially received a get-out-of-jail-free card.  In the blogging world, at least.  From this point forward, let the record show him as a peaceful, vegetable-loving dog who would never dream of striking a Happy plant.

...unless the plant started it. 

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