Snake on the balcony

Sitting on my balcony, I do feel that I am in my little bit of paradise, as a friend has called it. Come time to water all the many plants on a hot day, however, and my plantation is more like a thirsty jungle. Back and forth to the kitchen with watering cans, often morning and evening. So when I saw a TV ad for a lightweight, expandable garden hose, I immediately sent for it. 700 grams of crinkled green tubing arrived, rather resembling a snake’s shed skin. Attached to the water faucet in the

kitchen, the snake sprang back to life, stretching out, writhing on the floor and looking decidedly eerie. Weirdness was forgotten once I opened the spray attachment at the end over a thirsty plant, as this gadget does just what a garden hose is supposed to do. Memories returned of watering gardens in my old life. My plants drank up the libation with their usual thirst and in a far shorter time. Whee! Furthermore, it is fun to use.

I’m sure that a garden hose snaking through the living room would not be welcome in everyone’s home, but my Ikea cotton rugs and tile floor would not mind a bit of dampening. Not that there is any sign of leakage; this is a well-made gadget. Worthy of comment by visitors, of course, as in “whatever is that wrinkly thing?!” A friend could hardly wait to order one for her garden, having had it with the heavy old-fashioned snake making its way from her bathroom tap out through her living room door.

One imagines second-hand stores full of these old rubber hoses, rather nostalgic actually. They stood between harvest and ruin, and no one knew of any other solution. My new snake is part of a long lineage, just in a more lighthearted, dancing form. Gardening is forever, and to be celebrated.