If Freddie Mercury has seen my garden before he sang Bohemian Rhapsody his lyrics could have been about a dead cactus rather than him declaring to his mother about killing a man.
You know how they say certain family traits skips a generation. Well it certainly did when it came to my gardening skills. Well a few more things could be added to that, sewing, knitting and other artistic skills. My mother is a queen of all trades and I am master of none. My mum has the ability to grow things out of nothing while I manage to kill a fully grown plant.
I am scientist’s daughter and I believe that I am trying to prove Charles Darwin’s theory of “survival of the fittest” in my garden. Time to time I experiment which ones can survive the longest without water etc. Of course there are casualties in this experiment. Yes as per my heading suggests, I did kill a cactus.
I have rearranged Freddie’s song and my version as follows. Sorry for all “Queen” fans if you find this appalling. I love him too. But seriously he was a musical genius but completely out of his mind. I believe my lyrics makes more sense.
Is this the real life
Is this just madness
Caught in a heatwave
No escape from sun
Can’t Open my eyes
I Look out the curtains and see
I’m just a poor gardener, Please I need sympathy
Because plants are easy come, easy go,
Little water, no water
Anyway the hot wind blows, doesn’t really matter to me – to me
Mama, I just killed a cactus,
I didn’t put a gun against it’s head,
I didn’t Pull the trigger, but it’s dead,
Mama, spring has just begun,
But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away
Didn’t mean to make you ashamed
I will be back again this time tomorrow
To Carry on, carry on, as if gardening matters
Too late, time has come,
For the cactus with the spines
It’s hot all the time,
Goodbye all the dead plants – sorry you got to go –
you all left me behind and to face the truth
Mama, ooo –
I don’t want to kill my plants,
I sometimes wish I’d never had a garden at all –
I am just a poor girl no plant seems love me
(ok I am going to miss the next verse it’s the one with “Gallileo, Gallileo”, it’s too crazy to decipher even after a glass of gin)
So you think you can shame me and wither right in front of my eye
So you think you can love me and leave me to die
Oh Cactus – why did you do that to me
You got me to be the worst Gardner of the year
Nothing really matters
Anyone can see
Nothing really matters, nothing really matters – to me
Not true, The Garden matters to me, but not matter enough for me to wither in the scorching sun. And sometimes I take the time to water them and apparently, I’ve stifled the plant with too much water. Excuse me, I can’t seem to win.
I don’t ask for sympathy but maybe a bit of empathy.