Titanarum

I couldn’t do it. The little freesia bulbs with their lanky, browned, spotted leaves should have been binned, deserved to binned. But something made me stop. Perhaps it was compassion; doesn’t what’s sickly deserve a second, even third chance? Perhaps it was guilt - for was not their pathetic growth all down to me ignoring good advice and planting them long before their season? Or it could have been forgetfulness. I remember pushing the tray back into the corner of the sill some time ago, pulling the curtains so as to cover them. I never touched that curtain until a few days ago. Or was it laziness, pure and simple? Nothing would surprise me. However, on balance their survival probably came about as a result of ALL of those things. Guilt made me draw the curtain, laziness prevented me from pulling it, forgetfulness made me, well, forget about them and my compassion ensured a new and better future. Before transplanting to a bigger and better pot with a thick layer of moist compost the 12 bulbs had a haircut. Two days on they are greener and fresher than ever. There WILL be flowers.

If only the growing of strawberries could be cut short too.