Just out of curiosity, do you know what the purpose is of those hanging green/brown "bags" against the wooden fencing (in the background of the picture)?
You just planted another seed of possibilities for post-geologist times... The CSA model sounds like a winner, and I'm sure there must be activity in the Netherlands for critical food connaisseurs.
do you know what the purpose is of those hanging green/brown "bags" against the wooden fencing
I wondered that. I just assumed they were hanging gro-bags keep to the Fen Causeway
But Philippe does sell the best single type of each year in a limited amount under the label "Solo". For the 2007 harvest it will be a Merlot at 15% alcohol. I tasted it when it was 6 months old, and it was already explosive. Not a wine to accompany a meal, but just to drink a glass of for the pleasure.
The bags: we were in a corner of the garden of my horticulturist neighbours. The bags will become a wall of plants and flowers. There's a water-retaining mix inside the bags - possibly there's some gel of the kind proposed by willem vancotthem that holds moisture. The plants are rooted in the mix. The bags are fitted with a hosepipe for water input, but don't demand much.
It took sheveral tries.
Heh. "Sheveral" - intentional or typo, it got me grinning.
I should really read willem's diaries, they've been sitting there at my bookmarked diaries for a while now... I've decided to set up a herb corner in our garden. If that goes well, I may extend.
A colourful trio, cf.:
... The Three Sitwells are not an acrobatic act. They are Edith, Osbert and Sacheverell, the fractious, fastidious scions of Sir George Reresby Sitwell, fourth Baronet, Lord of the Manor of Long Itchington. Osbert is a poet, essayist, novelist (Before the Bombardment, Escape With Me). Sacheverell is an outstanding authority on baroque art and Liszt, author of a distinguished travel book (Roumanian Journey) and much verse. Edith usually dresses like a medieval prioress, writes sharp, hard, colorful poetry that gives the impression of viridian green and Chinaman's-heart's-blood laid on in arabesque by a razor blade. ... [a] young man ... at one Sitwell function whispered: "You know, the Sitwells are so cruel; so devastatingly cruel, don't you think? Do you think they are going to be too awfully cruel today?" Last year when Edith Sitwell's Anthology appeared, rash Reviewer Hamilton Fyfe thought he would like to find out how cruel the Sitwells would be if somebody criticized the Sitwells. In the 98-year-old London weekly Reynolds News he wrote: "Among the literary curiosities of the nineteen-twenties will be the vogue of the Sitwells . . . whose energy and self-assurance pushed them into a position which their merits could not have won. . . . Now oblivion has claimed them and they are remembered with kindly, if slightly cynical, smiles." There were several high, hawklike cries, a spasmodic intake of talons and the Three Sitwells swooped down on Reynolds News, sued the paper and its editor, Sydney Elliott, for libel. ... Sacheverell testified that he had not passed into oblivion, had no intention of doing so. The presiding judge [quipped] "You hope not," [and suggested] waggishly that all three Sitwells ought to testify at once. The Suing Sitwells (TIME) Monday, Mar. 03, 1941
... The Three Sitwells are not an acrobatic act. They are Edith, Osbert and Sacheverell, the fractious, fastidious scions of Sir George Reresby Sitwell, fourth Baronet, Lord of the Manor of Long Itchington. Osbert is a poet, essayist, novelist (Before the Bombardment, Escape With Me). Sacheverell is an outstanding authority on baroque art and Liszt, author of a distinguished travel book (Roumanian Journey) and much verse. Edith usually dresses like a medieval prioress, writes sharp, hard, colorful poetry that gives the impression of viridian green and Chinaman's-heart's-blood laid on in arabesque by a razor blade.
... [a] young man ... at one Sitwell function whispered: "You know, the Sitwells are so cruel; so devastatingly cruel, don't you think? Do you think they are going to be too awfully cruel today?" Last year when Edith Sitwell's Anthology appeared, rash Reviewer Hamilton Fyfe thought he would like to find out how cruel the Sitwells would be if somebody criticized the Sitwells. In the 98-year-old London weekly Reynolds News he wrote: "Among the literary curiosities of the nineteen-twenties will be the vogue of the Sitwells . . . whose energy and self-assurance pushed them into a position which their merits could not have won. . . . Now oblivion has claimed them and they are remembered with kindly, if slightly cynical, smiles."
There were several high, hawklike cries, a spasmodic intake of talons and the Three Sitwells swooped down on Reynolds News, sued the paper and its editor, Sydney Elliott, for libel. ... Sacheverell testified that he had not passed into oblivion, had no intention of doing so.
The presiding judge [quipped] "You hope not," [and suggested] waggishly that all three Sitwells ought to testify at once.
The Suing Sitwells (TIME) Monday, Mar. 03, 1941
Pass the wine :-) Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner - that I moved to Nice.
