Gay Klok is one of our beloved Gardening editors. Her charming stories of life Down Under are gathered in "Come For A Stroll In My Garden". Here's a sample of one chapter:
Kees and I nurture two large gardens, our town garden which surrounds a Colonial home, built circa 1817, one of the earliest residencies in Hobart; and our country property of 140 acres made up of old apple orchards, 30 acres of semi-rain forest bush and some paddocks.
As we approached our wrinkly years, I dreamt of building a garden where I could indulge all my greedy, plantsperson's urges. The town garden, only 3/4 acre in size, was fast becoming overcrowded. The plants reproached me every day as they fought the battle of survival of the fittest. I also had a strong desire to build a water garden before I died. Ten years ago we bought the old country farmhouse [circa 1880 and never been touched] and began "Gay's big dream and little folly". Both gardens open their garden gates one weekend a year to the general public under the auspices of the Australian Open Garden scheme. Our plants do not grow with their roots in the air but our water does flow down the outlet in an opposite direction to America! Everything grows all year round, including the weeds. After leaves fall, the trees may have three weeks rest and then the buds start swelling again.
Here is a sample from Greg Holbrook's anthology, "The Best of Humor":
OK people, let's talk a minute about the joy of spontaneity. The fun of surprise. The sheer exhilaration of mystery. The feeling you get when you don't know where it is or when it is that you are going. Yes, that's right. I am talking about . . .
THE ROAD TRIP!!!!!!
My fiancée Sharon and I had the occasion to take a spur-of-the-moment road trip to Pennsylvania this weekend to see my family and a few select friends. When I tell you it was spur-of-the-moment, I mean simply this. We decided to go, had a babysitter, packed a suitcase, and were on the road in a matter of an hour and a half. The drive to the small, one-horse town where I grew up was about three hours away for the average law-abiding driver. I do it in one and a half to two, depending on the weather and how eager Johnny Law is to sit and wait for me. During this drive, which was late at night, as Sharon slumbered peacefully in the passenger seat, I had the opportunity to travel backward in time (not recommended for people who are driving, and those with pacemakers) to reflect upon past adventures in highway traveling. It now seems to me that the road trip, however brightly depicted in Hollywood, is NOT the joyous romp on the asphalt everyone would have you believe it is. Sometimes (only when you are traveling) things do not go as planned. Sometimes, you forget you even had a plan. I will now share with you some of the joys of highway travel in this great pothole . . . uh . . . state.
Go To Page: 1 2
