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Friday, 19 January 2018

New Gardenland

I didn't want to see another sausage ever again but looked in the fridge yesterday and Dad had bought another packet. So it might be I will have to fire up the bbq this weekend. My own one - not the Mitre 10 one. I am sure we made a profit and now can spend it all on the garden - hooray!

After another windy rainstorm Dad helped me dismantle my rusty arch and now the hardenbergia is flopping all over the buxus hedge. I want to put my new, trade-tested arch up but mum insists that I don't. What do I do? I need supports or spikes to put it in the ground but the thing is its not the right size for that gap in the hedge. That means I can't put up this more solid arch up unless I cut out some of the hedge...arrgh. And I can't transplant the hardenbergia somewhere else it was doing so well there, but if I leave it there it will just tangle itself into a mess.

Now the most obvious solution the one mum has been insisting all along is to get my own house/place. But where, Dunedin? You cant grow much in Dunedin. Its not like next door is vacant so I can just move next door and just bust the fence down and extend the garden. So I'm thinking mum is either being unreasonable or joking or she just doesn't like me living here.

It's very disconcerting to think your own mother just doesn't like you and wants all your plants dead. But that can't be true because I have seen her watering my capsicums. Last week we found a mother in laws tongue in a pot chucked out in one of the gardens at work and we were going to bin it BUT I rescued it because Mum thought I had chucked away her one. I did not, but there is no reasoning with mum. So I offered it to Mum and said do you want to keep this plant otherwise it will be chucked away. It is now sitting under the tangelo tree in its pot along with a succulent from the South African Garden at work that mum asked me to take a cutting. The ladies at the Waitakere Garden said it was ok to take a cutting and offered me one. So that is there too.

Perhaps the solution is to divide up the land into separate countries, one can be called Selina's land and the other can be called Mum's land and Dad can have the lawn. I thought that we might be able to share it but perhaps we can make a subdivision without telling the council. I will have to have my own letterbox, cooking facilites (bbq) and toilet (composting). If we do tell the council I they need to supply my own recycle bin and rubbish bin (except I attempt to make zero waste, so probably won't need it) and pay rates which probably won't be a third of the current land but just as much as everyone else is paying. I will then become an official landowner and can tell others to get lost as they are trespassing on MY property. There probably needs to be a wall or boundary erected and some flags waving and a new anthem to say my land is separate from the rest. I will then christen it 'New Gardenland' which sounds a bit like 'Gondwanaland' which the whole world used to be before the land was divided. My original name for this continent was Iranasea but now that I am reclaiming the lawn (the grassy sea) and making new island beds I think New Gardenland is a more apt name.

It currently has a population of one human and one cat. To attract more inhabitants to this land I am considering opening it up to immigrants, but at present birds and butterflies are free to visit and they don't need a passport.