There are many different sizes of patience that a gardener must - ahem - cultivate, in order to be at peace in his or her garden. Lawns cannot be mowed until the rain stops, for example. That might only be a couple of days' worth. Trees that need three or four growing seasons before they even start to show their potential are another matter. Patience of a deeply rooted nature is required!
Wednesday 29th January
I've been distracted from gardening today, lost in the world of cutting and sewing up triangles. I am making bunting to hang along my messy side driveway. Naturally I can already see it stretched between the pine trees, fluttering in a gentle breeze. It looks (in my mind) quirky and ornamental, and fun - certainly not at all silly. The reality may be different. It may look totally daft. The winds may roar and shred the material, and my bunting may blow away. Aargh!
Meanwhile the Pittosporums underneath are growing slowly, taking their own time. I am learning to be patient. One day (when I've stopped noticing them) they'll be over head-height, and my side driveway will be sheltered and private again. Yippee! I'll be able to change into my shorts (or worse) without looking up and seeing a wandering neighbour.
Back to the present. I have found suitable material off-cuts and bought some budget retro curtains covered in lots of orange, gold and brown. This is going to be fun, fun, fun. How long should this bunting take to construct? How long is a string of bunting? Please excuse me while I continue making my colourful little triangles...
Thursday 30th January
I spent the cooler hours of the morning finishing my bonfire burning - seven barrowfuls of rubbish, gone up in much flame and little smoke (it's all extremely flammable). Then I sewed up some more bunting. Watching a recording of yesterday's cricket is the perfect accompaniment for turning a heap of triangles right-side-out and poking the scissors into the pointy bit. All the nicer because I know we win, hee hee...
Rusty the dog and I went for our walk, but first I paced down the fence-line to get some idea of how many triangles I will actually need. Hmm... This maths could get rather scary. In four separate pieces, I need thirty meters. At four and a bit triangles per meter, say about one hundred and forty bunting flags. And so far I have made seventy seven. Ha! Halfway there! No problem.
It's been too hot to garden, anyway. And I love being busy doing something a little silly. Bespoke bunting for a country garden can never be described as 'twee'. Mine is far too robust for that, and it echoes the colours of real garden litter. I mean leaves, grass clippings and faded roses, not old plastic pots, by the way!
Kate Sheppard Rose
By the way, hardly any patience at all is required to sew a hundred and fifty material triangles. I just keep on giggling imagining the end result, and time flies by. And there are always more of them when I stop and count! Funny, that...