She chooses her place
in a gown of velvet green
crowned by a pink blur of stars
bowing from rounded stems
she bristles to my touch
preferring bumblebees
©️2018 Ontheland
Ms. Borage
She chooses her place
in a gown of velvet green
crowned by a pink blur of stars
bowing from rounded stems
she bristles to my touch
preferring bumblebees
©️2018 Ontheland
Ontheland 
Delightful, Janice!
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Thank you, Merril 😉
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She’d certainly bristle to my touch! I tried to grow borage when I had my first ‘garden’ about eight square feet of balcony in Paris. It attracted masses of greenfly. I thought I’d read somewhere that vinegar was good against greenfly so I sprayed it. It died within hours.
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It’s always sad when a plant doesn’t survive…borage self seeds nicely when it finds a locale it likes. You’d probably have more luck where you are now.
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For the moment everything is in pots. The soil is rock hard clay and needs a tractor to turn it over.
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The base soil is clay here too. When I first moved here eight years ago I had a surge of energy and dug out the garden in the spring when the clay was wet and mixed in purchased topsoil creating a raised garden of sorts surrounded with rocks and chicken wire to keep the many rabbits out. I think back and wonder how I ever did it…the bugs were awful and the clay was heavy and stuck to my shovel. I think it must have been the sheer novelty of having somewhere to dig.
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That’s exactly what we did in our first garden. People thought we were stark staring mad. It was quite a small garden, full of flowering trees and shrubs, a summer house and a garage. We began bu demolishing the garage. First point of craziness—who demolishes a garage? Where does the car live? Answer—on the public car park, it’s only a heap of metal not a family pet. It left a huge hole that we filled in with top soil from a farm down at the bottom of the mountain (the town is perched on a glacial outcrop). The lorry needed special permission to come up the windy road. In the end we had a sort of massive raised bed of a garden that we terraced. We had four children to act as slave labour to help though 🙂
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That was a genius idea, filling the existing excavation 🙂
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We were a bit surprised at the size of the hole the excavators made when they dug out the garage. It had been built in the mid-twentieth century to withstand a nuclear blast, I think.
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That’s hilarious. I assume you’re joking but I don’t really know how common that sort of fear was or is acted on in Europe. I’ve heard of bomb shelters in the States…less here in Canada I think.
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No, ordinary Europeans didn’t feel too concerned with the Cold War. We had the Man from Uncle to explain it to us. It was just an image to give you an idea of the way it had been built—to last!
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:))
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