Mary, Mary, quite contrary

In honour of spring and the summer to come (or the summer that is here - we had two days of 30°C temperatures this weekend), I planted myself a tiny garden bed yesterday. Seedlings of tall snapdragons against the weathered timber fence, with marigolds around them and purple assylum at the marigolds' feet.

I whispered to the seedlings, "Let's start small, shall we? Don't get too excited about planting and colour and big ambition. This small patch first, then we'll see how you grow and go from there."

This morning, I watered my little garden bed liberally and stood for a while, admiring the little shoots. It was all I could do to not rush out to buy more plants in my enthuasiasm. Big plans and excessive enthuasiasm has always been my downfall. I am seldom content with the simple starts.

But yes, let's remain with the seedlings that I have, and only these seedlings. I have created enough frustrating, unmanagable, time-consuming, soul-eating monsters this year.