Yesterday afternoon I found myself a companion –
no, not the love of my life –
and neither will it be forever.
Let me explain.
I was positioning plants for a hot border. The previous border contents had been substantially ripped out by the landscapers. (In our planting designs we sometimes do not replant all areas totally and will try to save plants and work with existing plants if that is what the client chooses. We then source a palette of appropriate plants to fill out the planting concept.)
Placing plants in a partially planted border I always find marginally more difficult that starting from scratch because there are compromises to be made and you are thinking on your feet (literally!) rather than through a planting plan at your drawing board.
As I mused and chatted to myself – ‘no’, ‘not really’ , ‘mmmmmm’, ‘No that doesn’t work!’, ‘YES!’ – etc, etc my own words were overtaken by a burbling, chuckling accelerando, falling to a rallentando only to rise again.
And behold, (as the Bible says a great deal), it was SATAN:
So called, apparently, because our client had 6 chickens, but five were decapitated and ‘they always say that the one that’s left behind is the murderer.’
I did innocently suggest that it might have been a fox but our client shook her head:
‘No, because the fox won’t touch her!’
(And it is true that Satan does roam loose all day, even though this is a foxy neighbourhood and you do see foxes in the daytime going about their business with increasing boldness. But Satan still lives amongst us, as the Bible says!)
So in this large, empty garden (everyone was elsewhere) I was alone with this deadly (by repute) female.
Now, there is something about the round eyed unblinking stare of poultry which I have always found rather unnerving. Too many trips to collect eggs for my grandfather I suspect. He kept some hens and geese at the top of his garden. I always got nipped – the geese were the worst. The Chinese Geese particularly deadly.
This childhood trauma must have stayed in my pschye because I bought an abstract picture just a few years ago from a local artist, Midge Naylor:
When I quizzed her as to the painting’s subject matter she said somewhat vaguely that it was inspired by Spain. I said that it looked like a completely demented hen. Midge smiled indulgently and murmured something about it being up to each of us to supply the meaning which we felt most appropriate. Well, I guess I had supplied mine!
And periodically the mad hen catches my eye with her own white-hot angry eye as I go up and down the stairs.
So as I stood in the quiet sunlight and sipped my black builder’s tea for some planterly inspiration I eyed this Satan with some necessary caution.
But gradually came growing respect. She circumspectly negotiated her her way through the putative hot border.
I noticed slugs and snails being consumed greedily.
Just as well since Lobelia and Ligularia are much loved by both, but to my mind both plants are hot border essentials.
She picked her way with the greatest delicacy through the cut off blooms of one of the Hemerocallis we had moved. (I was going to offer them to one of the landscaper girls. Never let it be said that I do not know how to treat a girl.)
And Satan with her soft tan plumage even fitted into my warm colour scheme:
Now winsome always wins me. I remembered the landscaping girls saying that they could hold and stroke her. So I thought, must get over this chicken thing and when she next passed my way I reached down.
You know what happened!
I’ll not be doing it again.
Anyway, I hear from our client that her days are numbered. Satan has apparently started to forget that she is a hen and started taking up residence indoors. Its Animal Farm all over. They daren’t leave the doors open or she comes in, poos on the kitchen floor, sits on laps and even watches telly.
So she is off to a smallholding. Very wise! All I can say is they better watch out there. This female is deadly.
As for me, now I am truly henphobic and probably need counselling!
But the hot border is ready for the girls to plant.
R
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