Regular readers will be aware that, following a chance encounter with a French Canadian veterinary pathologist in Canterbury last year (we were both enjoying a Son et lumière display of Chaucer's Cantebury Tales; I borrowed his headphones), I am now on the brink of moving to Canada so we may be together, squabbling about whether white flowers are boring or not until we find something else to talk about. Today, we went to the garden centre. It was astonishing and, unlike garden centres in the United Kingdom (which are mainly full of ghastly butterfly lavender plants and vomit-coloured bedding plants), this one was gigantic, and full of trees. The pathologist bought two bags of rocks and some canes; I bought some flat leaf parsley.
We drove back slowly so that I could better acquaint myself with the area. What is there to do or see, one always wonders when moving, and what are the neighbours like? Astonishingly, both those questions were answered within seconds!
I have no need to worry about provisions:
And if I am bored, there is a local safari to discover!
But most exciting of all is that the neighbours have really super taste. I think we're going to have STACKS in common!!!
Sadly, the pathologist tells me that he does not really mix with his neighbours, despite the fact that only last week he performed an autopsy on a couple of his next door neighbour's speciality canary flock (who have, it seems, been struck down by a rare and incurable disease, but the neighbour does not care, for he would rather breed Abyssinian cats).
In the meantime, the pathologist is cutting flowers from his garden, and I am weighting the summer pudding I made with his fruits. I rather think we shall end up keeping ourselves to ourselves and living off the land. Seems rather jolly, in truth!
6 comments:
I bet one of your neighbours has a replica of Michelangelo's David as garden statuary; I think you should infiltrate and find it.
Dear Non-Working Monkey, is it truly true that you met The Pathologist quite randomly during a theatrical performance and not via an internet dating caper? Because if it is true then it restores my faith in Love and Fate and other things that have been badly tarnished by their regular co-option into Mariah Carey songs.
Better than that Ms B; I have seen the entire Holy Family held in giant hands! On a front lawn!
Olivia, better than that: I met him through this blog. This is the ABSOLUTE TRUTH. One day I may tell the story.
White flowers are NOT boring. I insist.
I can totally picture the peaceful life in your new neighbourhood, daily trip to the safari, visiting the Verger Lacroix when you're bored, helping the pathologist performing autopsies on the neighbours and raising Abyssinian canaries.
NWM, oh, if it's THAT you saw, you might as well be in New Jersey! I meant something to rival the statuary in Brixton, but it may be that that is not possible...
Though yes, the hand, the hand is a particularly fine touch.
I thought, for quite a long time, that the big basket wasn't big at all, it was just very close to the camera, and everything else far in the distance.
Oh dear.
I too am off to Canada at the end of August after leaving my job! Only for 3 weeks though. Then I come back and start a new one. Oh well.
Love reading your blog by the way, don't think I've commented before. I'm one of those. Your adventures and non-workingness are very inspiring.
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