GREENER PASTURES THEY WERE NOT

I HAVE SPENT some time watching the scenery, in other pastures to find out if there is other/any hope
other than repeating to death the climatic change, the need to recycle STORY, beating to death again the
dead horse.

It was fun the first couple of days. Everyjuan commenting in what seems to be the fashion, adolescent like, what yours truly wrote. Some with nothing in common, requested to be
my friends. There seems to be some importance in numbers, I can not explain it any other
way.

One terrible, madening discovery took place. There are great similarities with the discourse,
as linguistics academicians like to put it. The same problem that we have in the asphalt/concrete
island seems apparent. A need of protagonical position, always spinning around the I, ego. A need, urge to write, think alike as in a fucking BLOCK/SQUARE. I have
the impression that most people in the blogging world really believe that they are unique, important.

And I seemingly arrogant the humble one. Not caring about money, physical appearance, superficial issues, inane opinions without a solid foundation. Everyone seems to be in favor of Palestinian terrorists. A pity the amount of civilians, is known as collateral damage. It was their decission. One can not expect to fire
rockets at the best army in the world now, and expect a war of roses.

On my garden scene, I inform you loyal, consequent lovers of the environment, from your keyboard only, or with real dirt, recent happenings dirt/planting wise. Many bushes that were planted in the wrong place, have now being moved to more nurturing areas based on humidity and shade. Others went the opposite way. It is necessary to watch growth. When things do not
develop as they should, that is what I do. Sure, it is possible, only if what you have tolerates
repotting, some plants, Cajanus Cajan, for example will pass away if you attempt to replant it.

Others have moved from pots to the garden, two Frangipanis in the garden in front of the porch.
These are from seeds, pink, around 12 inches high. Two Passionarias, climbers, to reduce noise,
increase privacy in the north side of the house and make some juice eventually.

RIP. Two Ixoras, mutilated for decades had to be removed. My attempts to return some beauty in form failed. Once the architecture of a bush/tree is destroyed no matter what you do, it will
never become what it was meant to be before the mutilation. Just as people in jail. The vast majority will never be what they should/could have, unable to overcome the experience.

See you there. Please do not talk about the environment. Do something. Talk is cheap.