This week I was sitting on my patio. On the one hand I felt deep gratitude for the sun finally shining some rays. On the other hand I felt deep sadness while staring at my flower pots with weak ranks of tomato plants and zucchini plants, completely devoured by snails, leaving snail poop and holes on its leaves. I have grown these plants from seed to sad ranks, months of blood sweat and carrying heavy bags of flower soil on my bike. These plants took up oodles of time, energy and love, to leave me with nothing but 1 penis sized zucchini, a couple of appetizer tomatoes and lots of gardening resentment.
But I wasn’t going to let it get to me. I was already dreaming of the next big thing that would suit and brighten my patio. Like a french, stone vase with a flower arrangement one only sees on weddings. One of those antique vases that can be found on small French palaces like Versailles. Standing grandiosely in the corners of the first layer of patio, at the gigantic glass doors that can be swung open to the garden. Like a warning vase that that’s where the patio is ending ensuring visitors of lavish parties don’t stumble down in the pound.
A quick Facebook marketplace scavenger hunt later and I found the perfect vase. Ready to jump on my bike to go pick it up. Until I noticed it weighs approximately 15 kg. I quickly put my plan to rest and started imagining what it would be like if I just walk around with such a vase on my head, offering flowers to everyone I pass on my way. A type of hat Hyacinth Bucket would wear.