The dangers of organic gardening

                                             credit: freeimages.co.uk

Or  put another way -  Be fruitful and multiply, a revised vintage 'Greenpatch' first written in response to today's Old Testament reading.

Yes, yes, yes! I do realise that what the serpent offered Eve  was as likely to be a pear, kiwi fruit or a bunch of bannanas as half a pound of Coxes.  But were they organic - I'd like to know?!  Was the slimy reptile an early example of  wanton exploitation in a consumerist society? Or was he simply out to make an honest penny?

And whilst we're on the subject - Mr Adam, Where  were you  when all this jiggery-pokery was going on? I've discovered a very telling phrase in current editions of the Bible, that was definitely conspicuous by its absence in the version we studied at school: "She gave some [fruit] to her husband who was with her!!!"   Suffering from a convenient attack of temporary deafness, no doubt. Very convenient! Thus (depending on your interpretation) condemming poor Eve to an eternity of being fruitful -  all without the benefit of National Childbirth Trust ante-natal exercises. I can just picture it:

She: Never again, you animal! 

Midwife: Now dear, remember what we practiced in our last session? Deep breath...and hold...(don't push!) little pants - there we go: 'puff, puff, puff...Mr A dear, you're looking ever so queasy. I think you'd best get up the other end and hold her hand... Mr A? Oh, a note. What's this? "Sorry! Can't stop. Off to subdue a few thistles."' Excuses excuses!

Now, where was I? Ah yes. What is 'dominion' and what is 'stewardship?' I think you'll have to wait 'til another time for my thoughts on that one.

To be a pilgrim: All Who would valiant be - Hobgoblin-free zone

                                            Feeble apology for a hobgoblin - Christmas 2010


Great full-colour cartoon by Dave Walker in this week's  Church Times supplement on Back to Church Sunday: What to expect incorporating some suggestions from his readers  adoring fans, including Yours Truly. Thanks Dave,  for including mine on inclusive language in familiar hymns.  If you're not expecting it (inclusive language, not Dave W), as was I this morning, it can cause not a little dissonance twixt eye, voice and brain, resulting in a strangled squawk not unlike that of poor John Bunyan's hobgoblin. I already knew that he'd been banished, along with the foul fiend; earlier than I'd thought -according to this info on the hymn based on a poem from Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, the modifications made by Percy Dearmer were made way back in 1906. Well, I certainly don't date back that far, yet I distinctly remember singing the original Who Would True Valour See throughout my schooldays. Maybe we used in in solidarity with the local boys' grammar school - according to one source, they had Bunyan's version as a school song. Ours was, and as far as I know still is One Church, One Faith, One Lord, (in itself a topic for a blog post), but I digress.

Going back to church today - whatever version we were singing, it read even more inclusive and san (nearly said 'sin') itised than Perce's masterpiece! All Who Would Valiant Be...? Never mind. One good thing to be said for modernising, at least it forces you to really concentrate on what you're singing about; easy to let the tried and familiar blind you to the underlying meaning. And to be honest, when I think about  the potential horrors in some of the more contemporary output, (Shipoffools.com's Crappy Choruses and Horrible Hymns thread saw me through many a dark night), I'll forgive Newchurch any amount of inclusive language use.

It's just - if you've been brought up on robust Anglican hymnody and even more robust poetry: I remember learning Gerard Manley Hopkin's glorious  Pied Beauty, his  God's Grandeur, and Coleridge's Rime  of the Ancient Mariner, at school between the ages of seven and ten (so there, Mr Gove!), anything less can seem like dreaming in sepia tones when you've been accustomed to all the colours of the rainbow.

Nouvelle Cuisine - Steamed Fish

Steamy and oh so fishy goings-ons via The Beaker Folk and Letter From Home. Makes my own forays into Nouvelle Cuisine seem quite tame really.  Don't know what's got into everybody; I blame all this jubilation and weather we've been having lately.

Smoke gets in your eyes

Took advantage of Mr GP's absence at a BBQ to have my own cooking session en plein air, and give my kelly kettle, (seen here at Greenbelt 2011), it's first outing of the year. For the uninitiated a kelly or poacher's kettle is simply a double-walled metal chamber, with the water kept in the chimney wall. You  fill the base with fuel, place the chamber on top,  before lighting  it. The kelly then gives a convincing imitation of the eruption of Mt Vesuvius, and 3-5 minutes later le voila, tea is served! The beauty of this little chappie is that it's compact, light, can burn any fuel that's to hand  - green brownie points here - enabling you to whip up a quick cuppa at a moment's notice wherever you are, whether that's the riverbank, wilderness, even the desert... Yes, camel dung makes excellent fuel I'm told, not that I'm ever likely to be in a position to try that one out. It also appeals to the latent Girl Guide in me. After all, my patrol were awarded  the wooden spoon for best cooks 1972. (If my memory serves me rightly, lukewarm   porridge and lumpy mince of doubtful origin featured largely on our menus!)

Luckily nobody passing by the Greenpatch residence at about 5.30 this evening  caught sight of the smoke signals, or if they did, heard the cursing, blinding and puffing and had the presence of mind not to call the fire brigade. It was just me, re-discovering the knack of getting the sodding thing to keep burning. There's a certain technique to this (which I didn't quite master at GB whilst trying to brew up in a howling wind on the first day!) It Consists of pointing the kettle into the prevailing wind, blowing vigorously into the holes in the base, head down like a demented hen, whilst simultaneously posting fuel as fast as you can into the chimney. It took a few trial runs and a moud of messy ash today  before I  realised that I'd have to put  aside romantic backwoodsmen notions of scavenging for pine cones, kindling and grasses -  and settle for  using billions of little squares of cardboard;  far more efficient and less smoky.

 Not the best of timing, I must admit, kellying on the same day as having my hair done. I pong as if I smoke 60 a day. Great cup of coffee though.  However, I need to get in a lot more practice before I can fulfil my dreams  of plentiful hot water for cuppas, washing, and sneaky late night hot water bottles. at GB.

Going round in circles

We shall not cease from exploration 

And the end of all our exploring 
Will be to arrive where we started 
And know the place for the first time. 
     T.S. Eliot -- "Little Gidding" ( Four Quartets)

Following  my profound "thunks" on the labyrinth earlier, here are some images that have and continue to have a profound effect on 'Growing Greenpatches' . Much processing going on offline; maybe some of it will find its way onto this blog. Wandering round in circles isn't as counterproductive as it might appear at first, I'm finding. I've had plenty of practice after all; whether it involves pulling on my spiritual or actual walking shoes, when I take the time to stop and reflect on Who I am, despite my gumblings about blisters, bumps, and all kinds of other woes, I realise that underneath it all, I'm enjoying the journey. "All will be well..."

Recycled Grass Clippings

                                            Gotta Love Lawnmowers - Ms GP's tribute to the British Lawnmower Museum

A Letter From Home's horticultural hoo-hahs have inspired me to rake through the mouldering Greenpatch compost heap to  recycle some ancient grass clippings. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to exercise my undoubted gifting of encouragement. 

Severe Weather Warning

I'm stretching the definition of 'ecological' here... and realise that making light of our favourite topic may not be entirely appropriate given the latest BBC Weather Warning.

Yet optimism will out: Just couldn't resist pointing you towards a suitably Anglican take on matters meteorological, an old favourite, courtesy of The Mastersingers.