I have a friend – it’s a loose term – who regularly reads my blog, not because he’s interested in gardening per se, more because he’s interested in finding things within my content to rib me about. In the interests of protecting the guilty we shall call my friend, Greg – mostly because that’s his name.
Greg has just started his long service leave and one day into it he’s already bored enough to spend time making hanging baskets, such as the one above. To most gardeners, this would be a welcome surprise, but to readers who are thinking this way, let me inform you, this is NO gift. Au contraire.
No, this is the gardener’s version of a mafia “horse head.” Plants that seem so innocent and ordinary from all external appearances yet are tainted with symbolism that force you to run inside, lock all the windows and doors and hide in the bath-tub.
Okay, maybe that’s a little extreme but let’s begin by identifying some of these plants. The tallest one in the centre (nice arranging BTW Gregory, did you get Leanne to do it for you?) is a snapdragon. Then on the edge are a few celosias with variegated spider plants dripping over the side.
Do you see it now? No? It’s painfully obvious, I’m guessing you must be new to my blog. This is three of my five most hated plants, the only ones missing were amaranthus tricolor – bit hard to get that one in a hanging basket – and vincas. This is obviously a pointed attack and one that cannot go quietly under the carpet without revenge.
So, just for the record Gregory – you started it!
What shall I do with the hanging basket? Probably regift it, no doubt!