Cecilia and Freddie Mercury
After being Rocked by Queen, I toddled off to the Begonia Show, the other thing to do in Ballarat.I Accidentally went to Ballarat.
I was there nearly two hours before I realized the elegant, gourmet gold mining city I had in mind was Bendigo. The town I found myself in was flat, architectually wonderful, but definitely not Bendigo.
But I got Lucky. I got to hang out with Freddy Mercury, who, it seems, is also clearing out his garage. The exhibition had old album covers, tour baggage slathered with stickers. The drawcard was the till-now unseen photos taken by his roadie, of Freddie and the rest of Queen scrambling though life with polystyrene cups and disorder their constant companion.
I saw for the first time that Queen were never able to guarantee that what they did would succeed. But mostly it did, and Freddy and the gang just kept going, kept writing, creating, pouring it all out for us.
But I got Lucky. I got to hang out with Freddy Mercury, who, it seems, is also clearing out his garage. The exhibition had old album covers, tour baggage slathered with stickers. The drawcard was the till-now unseen photos taken by his roadie, of Freddie and the rest of Queen scrambling though life with polystyrene cups and disorder their constant companion.
I saw for the first time that Queen were never able to guarantee that what they did would succeed. But mostly it did, and Freddy and the gang just kept going, kept writing, creating, pouring it all out for us.
I've not researched begonias, but looking at the super-juicy soft stems and fragile flowers, I had the feeling they would be dinner-on-a-plate for every garden pest that exists.
Choosing such a plant for an organic garden would be setting myself up for heartbreak, kind of like being one of Freddie's infinite garden of lovers.
Not just that, it but would be jarring visually. Despite themselves, people have an old instinct for what doesn't belong, you can't fudge harmony. No matter how beautiful, visual associations are even more difficult to erase, and there is something very 1950s about these plants, evocative of nursing homes.
But I've discovered begonias have an impressive vastness of range, from chihuahua to great dane. Some live their lives as hardy, drought-tolerant roadside plantings, then others stay indoors with Queen Elizabeth-type owners, coddled and protected, then astonishing us with massive plastic-like blossoms.
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