Tuesday, December 29, 2015

The triffid has awoken

thewife is a dab hand at gardening and the raised plot in the backyard is bursting with life.

Towering above them all is an eight foot sunflower, that I called "the Triffid", whose flower opened while we were away. 

We came to find it in full sunflower mode but with the flower pointing to the corner of the garden.

To see the sunflower's face, and even then just side on, you need to stand next to a spiky bush, near the unused compost bin and stack of old screen doors (for chicken fencing) that is against the shed wall.

It's also the place in the garden where I both wee (aimed at under the bush) and go to if I feel I am going to throw up—with nausea being an occasional Mikey guest, like when a comedian fills in for a talk show host for a week. For nausea it's ideal because you can rest one hand on the compost bin and use the other hand to grip the ornate outer metal weave of a dead screen door as your stomach heaves.

How typical that the amazing accidental flower thewife grew, the seed that spawned it likely from compost mulch, opens into its full life-affirming glory and to (partially) see its face you have to stand in the one spot in the garden where I wee and/or throw up.

That's triffids for you; vicious fuckers.

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