You know how it goes. You see something in a magazine, or perhaps at a book store, fall in love with it, pine for it, determine it is completely out of your price range and that you just need to get over it, and then turn around, a mere two days later, and find it for sale, half off? You know how that happens just about all of the time? No? It never happens to you? Right. Me neither. Until this weekend, that is.
I fell in love with British organic gardening expert Bob Flowerdew (the name! the braided pony tail!) when I picked up his book Grow Your Own, Eat Your Own several years ago. I was initially intrigued by the book itself, but came to be smitten more so by its author. He’s cheeky, and clever, and, well, it’s not every day that you find a Brit describing himself thusly:
I love: gardening, scented plants, good food, cats, beautiful women, erudite conversation, reading, etymology, public speaking, invention, outrageous ideas, scuba diving, and whinging on about the state of things. I dislike: bad, bland and factory food, over egged political correctness, the state of things, humour-less prigs, self-opinionated hypocrites and anyone else like me continually whinging on about the state of things.
You love him now too, right? So, when I first glanced his newest book 6-volume organic gardening series at a big book store a few weeks ago, I knew I wanted it straight away. But, alas, it was a bit out of my price range, at least, to acquire all 6 books at once. Then I saw that Martha was digging on Bob, too. The series, it would be mine, I decided, but when?
And then. AND THEN. In a most auspicious pop into the book store attached to the Screen Door over the weekend, I saw the series. All 6 books. At half price. The deal was done. The books, they were mine. As we move into the season of seeds and soil and potting and planting, I can’t wait to have Bob alongside, sharing his sage advice with wit, humor, and whimsy. I too love scented plants, good food, cats, and the like. Me and Bob. We’d be tight. I might just even fashion my wild mane of hair into a braided ponytail, as an homage.