There’s a severe storm warning and a tornado watch for half of my state, including my corner. A thunderstorm is making itself known outside and I probably shouldn’t be on my computer. I rarely do what I’m supposed to, however, and so you find me here. Until I have to drive to Hartford tonight to pick my brother up at the bus station. We’ll just chalk it up to having an adventure and leave it at that, shall we?
I’ve managed to weed half of my front flower garden over the past few days. This is an extremely painful process physically, but I’ve invested too much time, energy, and money in my gardens to let them slide any further into the Weed Hell that they reside in; it hurts – mentally – to see it. The results are gratifying even if I am reduced to limping afterward. Some things in life are worth it.
Of course, gardening is not for the faint of heart. Becky could never in a million years assist me in weeding, for example: a surprising variety of spiders have made themselves at home there. Slugs have turned up as well, and there is always an abundance of earthworms and creepy crawlers. My MIL insists that she once saw a snake in it years ago but, if so, I’ve never seen one. I once found a dead mouse and I’ll admit that I didn’t find that pleasant at all. But overall there’s little to fear. What I hate, though, is knowing that I probably have bugs crawling in my hair. I could feel the bun I was wearing my hair in brushing against the underside of one of the bay windows as I toiled, and there are spider webs and other things lurking there. I’ve never scrubbed my head in the shower the way I did after I called it quits for the day.
As I cleaned up I had an idea. I should place an ad in the paper offering to let some gardener, bereft of the ability to have a garden of their own, come to my house and care for mine. I wouldn’t pay them anything, and all materials they needed they would have to provide themselves. They couldn’t remove any of the flowers, only the weeds. I might let them add flowers, but they would have to clear their choices with me first. Other than that, they could come over and weed and putter to their heart’s content.
Now isn’t that a good deal?
The sad thing is that someone probably would take me up on that offer. I’m just not sure I want anyone that crazy hanging outside my house, however.
Yes, I want everything, and I want it my way.
Speaking of wanting, I want some of the white irises my mother has in her garden…