Garden Club had an outing, a Saturday morning workshop at La Mas Ceramics Studio in Kelston. Thera, our secretary, was a ceramics nut and booked us in for a bout of indoor creativity. We painted ceramics of our choosing to be fired in the big kiln to possibly be revealed at the next club night.
Our garden grumbles were the same - can't do anything in this cold, wet, dark winter. This is why club nights are now put on recess during July and August. It only took about 60 years to make this decision...
Meanwhile at Woodside Community Garden, which I haven't set foot in for a the past two months, is desperate to get me back in on the same morning. Though they haven't called any meetings either, and Garden Club had already organised their Wintergarden and Ceramics outings. So I just go where I've already been booked in.
I sometimes forget that I'm meant to be a faithful stalwart who sticks and commits to something every time the doors open. Though I find I'm actually fickle as the weather and not like a rock people supposedly can rely on. Being singleminded has its benefits, though it also means you can't just suddenly change your mind. Only crazy people say one thing and do another. If only Auckland weather was reliable. But people also forget it's not like Friendly Feilding, where the town is completely flat and everyone knows their neighbours. Or Windy Wellington, that revolves around a Beehive. Or even Cultured Christchurch, which has an underground crime scene and above ground cardboard Cathedral. In Awkward Auckland, you may have to cross a bridge over troubled waters to get places, or ford a stream, or go around a dormant volcano, cut through the bush, and navigate the tides and inlets of the harbour, or travel through a tunnel, an in and around a dozen or so bridges around Spaghetti Junction whilst changing five lanes to get to a turn off ramp, then fight for the last carpark. On a good day, the sun is shining and you can actually see where you are going. On a bad day, it's like the movie the Labyrinth. It's just easier to stay at home. That's why Aucklanders didn't mind the lockdowns so much compared to the rest of the country.
I'm just sayin'.
So anyway, I had my ceramic craft fix and painted myself a little shell which I am going to either hold soap or tea light candles in, or maybe potpourri or pearls or glass beads. Thera painted a snail, Karen a conch, Grace had a dragonfly, Bev had a cat, and Cenny a lemon tree wall plaque. If you want to paint and glaze your own garden ornaments, here's the place. Resident ceramic artist Marilyn said she must have supplied everybody in West Auckland with a glazed ceramic wall gecko for the past 25 years.
I got home and thought should I do some gardening? I pruned the tangelo, which was sour this season, of all the dead branches. Several tuis feed on the surrounding Dragon's Gold kowhai and now can land on its branches. The Orchid Show was also on this weekend, now at Te Atatu Peninsula, which was always a treat to go to. But I am NOT joining their club. That's takes a certain amount of obssession to be an orchid fancier (and glasshouse money, which I don't have) and the Prize winning Orchid people have a sort of crazed look about them. I know the kind, as depicted in the book/movie the Orchid Thief. It's a cult. Once you buy one orchid, you'll want them all and become a shameless exhibitor of the most coveted showgirls in the world of plants and then you've reached the point of no return.
