The moon had been waxing and waning in nebulous March skies…sometimes a shining crescent, hanging like a pendant and other times, lying like a cradle, suspended in the darkness, only to vanish behind an inky haze. But there was this one night when Yiannis walked in after concluding his business at work and exclaimed with a catch of excitement in his voice…`Hey go out and have a look at the full moon!’…And out I trotted into the back garden and the night sky was lit up with a magical glow. I walked up the three stone steps and stood behind the budding boughs of the apricot tree to get a better view. I peered through, caught my breath and stood transfixed…for endless moments. The moon hung like a silver orb, low in the sky between the houses and shone with such radiance, casting its silvery sheen on the clusters of flowers growing on the fence and turned them a waxen white. It was then that I took an oath…they say never take an oath under the moon for it will be as inconstant as the moon itself. But I did anyway…I promised myself, under the spell of the night, to work on my flower garden this year so that the blossoms and blooms would be dusted with the glitter of moonshine on spring and summer nights.
I thought I’d start with the seasonal flowers and grow them from scratch, from bulbs and seeds. No more buying them in pots and little tubs and transplanting them. I would nurture them from birth. So off we went to our friendly garden shop and snatched up all the seeds and bulbs of flowers promising a dizzy riot of colours. Over the next few days I studied the instructions on the packets and pondered where and how I would plant them. Then I waited for Yiannis and Jimmy to turn over the soil and fertilize it with manure. My spirits were buoyant and bounding with enthusiasm. Yes, I would launch off on Monday morning when he would go off to work and not interfere with my plans…breathe down my back every few minutes with his gardening advice…`No no, put the bulbs further apart!’ …or…`Mix the seeds with sand or they won’t spread out evenly!’… I was having none of it… But come Monday morning, I was greeted with a very sullen sky…Oh no…it looked chilly and the wind was lashing the leaves and branches of the lemon and orange trees, stripping them of their fragrant blossoms. My spirits waned and the days went by with no gardening and one or two bulbs started sprouting shoots in the bags. Every day Yiannis would come home and ask…`Have you planted anything?’ And I would say it was too cold or too windy or there was no sun. But all the while I could see this look in his eyes and I feared what he would do on Sunday.
On Thursday morning the sun crept over the church dome and descended on our garden and warmed the freshly dug earth and the blackbirds hopped about and tugged out earthworms from the soil. It was the perfect morning for planting. But I was caught unawares. I had planned to drive to the supermarket and listen to music and see what new sauces they had on the shelves. So off I went and Yiannis came home with questions in his eyes which he didn’t care to utter because…he was waiting for Sunday. On Friday morning the sun had come to stay. But I had bought these new pair of earrings to usher in the cool spring weather and I was dying to put them on and let them swing from my ears as I walked to town to do some window shopping. I came down the stairs all dressed to go when I saw the shafts of sunlight from the garden slant into the dining room and heard the birds chirping madly in the treetops. I went upstairs again and came down in my gardening clothes.
Armed with a spade and the colourful packets of seeds and bulbs, I sat on my haunches next to the low stone wall separating the garden from the terrace and started digging shallow troughs and poking in the narcissus bulbs which would yield a crop of yellow flowers, little daffodils of the pungently fragrant variety. Then came my mixed bag of freesias of cream, white, yellow, lavender and red with their sweet scented funnel shaped flowers. I had bought too many bulbs and I was running out of space along the wall because there was a rose bush and the curry plant that had grown into a slender tree and the thyme bushes…all eyeing me suspiciously as I threatened to push in more bulbs and take up their space. So I went up to the other wider spaces between the rose beds and next to the daisy bushes…I hear daisies are cruel plants which don’t let anything grow next to them. Never mind all that, I started sowing sweet pea of purples and pinks and whites…that’s what the packets promised, at least. Then came the baby’s breath of pinks and whites which I threw about quite randomly because I was getting tired. Finally came the alyssum which grows close to the ground…for the borders and around the pathway slabs to make us gasp in delight when they sprout in bunches with little green leaves and clusters of tiny white flowers. Ah, one more thing, I chucked a packet of chamomile seeds under the apple tree and sprayed the garden with water. I collected the empty packets, my gloves and spade and looked behind…ALL DONE AND DUSTED…As I walked away, I heard a chit chittering…THE NIGHTMARE OF ALL GARDENERS…a clutch of sparrows were picking away under the apple tree. When Yiannis came back I boasted of my accomplishments. He nodded and smiled but I could see that I had taken the wind out of his sails. He had intended to do the flowers himself, seeing that I was waxing and waning like Selene and dilly dallying. But I didn’t want him to encroach into my territory…he could always do the vegetable patch which he and his assistant hadn’t got round to.
The next day was Saturday and we had arranged to meet our Saturday night friends for dinner. We hadn’t met up for over a month…But…WHOA…my hair…it was dreadful! It needed a crop and you know how I feel about waiting around at the hairdresser’s. So I gave it a quick wash…clipped off the front…it looked pretty good…then plied the scissors into the back and it went crop crop crop and one side was longer than the other. Never mind…I blow dried my hair…lopped off the dangling bit…did a bit of fine snipping on the sides and…VOILA!!!… My hair looked a little untidy but it was swinging above my shoulders. I asked Yiannis how it looked and he said…` Hmm there is a certain…how can I say it…elasticity to it.’…What he meant was that it was swingy and that’s all I needed to hear. I put on my swingy earrings that I didn’t get a chance to wear and stepped out into the night with him. We had such a grand time. My friend and I talked until our jaws ached…I fear mine did because I did all the talking…and the smart boys bashed away at the politicians and talked about a new world order. The sommelier who never combed her hair offered us a flute of lovely champagne on the house…all sparkling and delicious.
The next day was Sunday and Yiannis disappeared into the garden and came back after an hour or two…`What have you been doing?’ I asked…`Just sowing some seeds.’…`What seeds?’…`Chamomile, you said the birds ate them up.’…Not only had he thrown chamomile under all the trees but in all the empty spaces which were already incubating my precious seeds and bulbs. He accused me of not having stuck any labels in and worst of all, he had thrown a handful of mint seeds over my baby’s breath …the mint is a vicious plant…it sucks the breath out of all delicate seedlings. So I’m not really sure what the garden’s going to look like or if anything’s going to pop out of the soil…and maybe I shouldn’t have made those promises under our inconstant friend.
So that’s all for now and cheers till the next time
