Radioactive seedlings

I know that some of you are going to jump all over me with hobnail boots for what I am about to write. Too bad, don't care. I have heard a few women complain that they are only going to have one or two children because their husbands are not involved in the raising of the babies. Well, don't lie to me. If you think that by only having a small family when you really wanted a large one is going to punish your recalcitrant husbands. Well, think again. You only punish yourself. Really, I know. Most men don't go into marriage thinking about children and their future progeny. The real reason women only want one or two children (apart from health issues or if they have an abusive partner) is because they themselves do not want to be bothered. They want the fancy car and the nice holiday and they know that if they have four kids they will have to forgo a lot of those luxuries. So please stop bleating about husbands not changing diapers or nappies etc. As a woman you have to think beyond that. Think that one day when he is off with his hobbies/sports or mates that you will have the company of lovely human beings that you have created and helped mould.

My husband wanted no children at all at the beginning of our marriage and only complied with being a father if he never had to change a dirty bum or deal with any yukky stuff. And he never did. Five children later he realised that the punishment I was inflicting on him was actually what he had wanted all along and he ended up loving being a Dad. And when he died he was thrilled that he was not leaving me all on my own and I had a built in support team of loving children around me. Just imagine if I had only one or two children? Nice people my two sons, but how much better to have their sisters there to support them and me through it all. So next time a young woman tells me that she can only afford two children, I will roll my eyes at her and tell her that it is all about priorities and if she really wants that new dress, she should not tell me that its because she loves her kids. Children are expensive. Anything worth investing in is expensive. If you want ten kids, don't tell me you can't because hubby is too busy with his online games. You have two choices, pull the plug on his games or stop whining and get on with what you want. Don't leave it too late. When you are fifty years old or sixty and you look back at your life, admit that the choices you make as far as children are concerned, was all about yourself. I do. I wanted lots of children because I love having kids around to talk to. When I wanted to chat about life's mysteries and Barry was zoning me out ... which he often did because he said I bored him with my thinking ... he would say 'I think you should phone one of the kids.' or 'Do you want to go visit X or Y or Z?' Thanks goodness for my kids. Love them to bits and would choose the lack of holidays and cruddy cars every time over the option of a smaller family.

Last week I went for a wander through town and saw an advert in the window of a Real Estate agency. In big letters it said, 'Downsize and simplify your life.' That peaked my interest and I went for a closer look. Not that I am considering downsizing or simplifying my lifestyle. Well, firstly the house cost much more than my present abode had cost me and secondly it was a shack. 'Well ventilated' ... well realistically that meant that the place had holes in the walls and there was no insulation at all. It might be fine in Summer, but Winter would be a challenge. And the simplify bit ... well that was because the kitchen, lounge and bedroom were all in one room with a bathroom tacked on in a shanty outside the 'house'. What the City Council have been doing lately is chasing up people who have not paid their Council rates. This had all the makings of one of those deserted homes that had been neglected by all and sundry and now the Council were wanting their debt to be repaid. Well, good luck with that because frankly the only repairs this home needed were best done with a bulldozer and a skip to put the scraps into. No, I am not putting my hand up to be the bulldozer driver, but I was tempted.

I have also been to the medical Clinic for various reasons that I will not bore you with. But as I have been going in and out of the building, I have noticed a bed of the most gorgeous Flame Lilies. My Mom loved a good African flower or two and she must have been encouraging me to go closer. Yes, they were starting to bear seeds ... and no, no one was looking if I should be tempted to harvest a few. But still I felt constrained to ask permission. But no one seemed to know who was in charge of the flowers. I went home quite saddened and looked online to see if I could buy some Flame Lily seeds or bulbs. None. Not a single one available anywhere. I asked a few friends who were sitting at the Clinic and we decided that my harvesting the seeds would be a service to the Clinic. The flower bed was in serious need of thinning out and replanting. In fact Peggy thought I could even thin the lilies out by pulling a few up and taking them home. Well that seemed just a step too far. So I harvested the seeds and put them into a nice brown paper bag .. courtesy of the pharmacist at the Clinic. I got home and put the bag on the dining room table ready for labelling ... and then the cat discovered it. She snuggled into the bag and when I yelled at her, she took off with a variety of seed pods stuck to her back. Like a demented hedgehog or porcupine with seed heads at crazy angles. Let us just hope that this novel way of spreading the seeds will work, otherwise it will be back to the Clinic on another seed foray for me. Were there any seeds left in the bag? Well a few and I will try to nurture them and see where that leads me. When the cat came back indoors there was not a single seed to be found on her fur ... and I looked.

Did you know that most of our seeds that we buy in shops are from Holland? When Chernobyl went up, the radiation fallout blanketed Europe with awful gunge that had to be scraped off the fields and discarded. But the residue on today's seeds still bear the hallmarks of Chernobyl. A group of people near Hastings have set up a community to find and preserve heritage seeds. You cannot buy them in shops, they have to be handed down from gardener to gardener. Now don't get me wrong, I am not advocating everyone go out and steal seeds from garden beds in pristine areas ... no, what I am saying is that we live with the fallout from radiation even if we do not know it. This got me thinking about solar power and wind turbines and such. But that was a minefield of its own. Solar panels are filled with Cadmium, which is a really bad carcinogen. As the panels degrade the Cadmium will be released into the atmosphere. And the wind turbines? Well, those blades are made of fibre glass and the dust particles in the air destroy the leading edge of the blades until finally the blades are thrown away on rubbish dumps. Where they degrade and those particles of glass are also released into the atmosphere. Even the clothes we wear degrade every time they are washed and the fibres end up in the air where we breathe them into our lungs. It makes you want to go live in a cave but sadly if we want technology and modern conveniences, well, we just have to grin and bear it.

It was Valentine's day this week and even though my husband was not a romantic in any way shape or form ... and never bothered with stuff or gifts on Valentine's day. I decided that I would do something for myself as a treat. No good me sitting and crying into my cornflakes all day because my husband was no longer around. Anyhow I decided to go to an art exhibition opening. I did change my top from one that is slightly stained, to one that doesn't show the stains. And off I tootled. Oh my goodness me. I was under-dressed by a country mile. There were little old ladies with their pearls on show, there were young up and coming professionals with shoes that would cost me a year's income and there were the artists. What I really wanted was to meet some of these amazing people. But the pearly ladies got in first and I could hear them saying 'I used to paint when I was young.' Oh my goodness me, I hope I never become like one of them. But then again, I don't own pearls. There were snacks of course and the drinkies that people expect. Bottles and bottles of wine and a small jug of fruit drink that was obviously from a packet of fruit flavoured crystals. A lovely man poured me a glass of fruit drink and he turned out to be a professor of art at the university. No, I did not tell him that I also paint water colours. No I did not dazzle him with my brilliance. I said thank you and wandered on. A couple of professional looking people bought a really lovely painting ... which I thought was worth every penny of its inflated price. And a few people were buying the less well executed pictures of birds and flowers. Did I enjoy my Valentine's date with myself? Yes, absolutely. Next year I might even do it again. Or maybe I will splash out and put on my own exhibition. Now that would be interesting.

Keep well and when you breathe in, remember that it is not only the animals and birds of the world that have plastic in their systems ... you do too.