THERE IS SIMPLY NOTHING TO SAY in response to this latest of Andre Jordan’s outbursts but this: I shower daily, sir.
Related posts:
THERE IS SIMPLY NOTHING TO SAY in response to this latest of Andre Jordan’s outbursts but this: I shower daily, sir.
Related posts:
never stop wanting more plants, my garden mentor instilled in me 20-plus
years ago, regularly reminding me of another gardener, past 90, who still lusts
for every new thing he can get a cutting of. I promise not to, until I myself
am back in the soil.

Regarding point number four: The plants won’t understand or the friends won’t? It worries me if it’s the plants…that means that your friends don’t talk to their plants. :-)
Oh, heck, I keep forgetting!
Washing is key, but the garden boots in a restaurant can be very chic.
Point #2: speak normal – has become abnormal to an avid gardener.
#4 is so unfair, and I have had first-hand experience of it. We’re expected to talk to our friends’ pets, and yet somehow talking to their plants is a bridge too far? *sigh*
Sarah O – Prince Charles talks to his plants. It worries most of the nation.
Susan – just between you and me, I think if I were to see a girl in a posh restaurant wearing garden boots, I’d fall head over heels in love.
I’m with Susan and am glad Andre approves as MY garden boots are HOT PINK! I’m just sayin.
I can’t seem to talk about anything but the garden (wait, though it does, for spring) and our little Beagle. People nod, smile, and go look for that bar. As for the unwashed bit, between the garden and a passion for rock climbing, there’s not much hope (and I wore my Mountain Khakis to work today…).
Andre, I will remember to wear my garden boots
Andre – oh, they shouldn’t be concerned, at least not until he develops an inordinately close relationship with his Scottish gardener, retreats to some island estate, and starts communicating through flower posies. ;)
Wash?
I thought the English were passionate gardeners. Do they not talk to their plants? (Or are they just too straitlaced to admit it?)
my garden boots, steel-capped and somewhat ripped on top are regulars everywhere…the washing is more of a challenge as we’re in an extended Big Dry. i’d call it a drought, except that most years are like this and you’d think the label “drought” would be an exceptional tag for an exceptional circumstance.
so the challenge here is to become clean[er] while using only teacups of water…that are carefully saved in the washbowl and transferred to whichever plant is sobbing loudest in the garden…
Welcome, India. I send my rain dance your way, and my nasty, ripped-up garden boots send their best to yours as well. Do come again and see us here.