I've decided my garden is following the philosophy of Browning. Our grasp on the homefront has been exceeded. I have more aspirations for outdoor plantings than I have time or space for. But I adore watching all my favorites bloom, so I soldier on in a very military way in my war on weeds.
But then comes the downside. One of the beds gets absolutely choked because it's turn for weeding didn't materialize. I was out of town, or it pours that day, or ... Pretty soon all I can see is the creeping charlie in the roses.
My fab husband tries to redirect to me to the garden in my mind. The one that has no destructive bugs or crab grass or aphids. The garden where roses never lodge and chipmunks don't eat the ripe tomatoes. The garden that has no tree suckers that are now too large to just pull.
But what would I do in such a garden? After planting was done, the work would be done. It'd be like planting a field of soybeans or corn. And I'm not a farmer. I'm a gardener. I enjoy conquering the recalcitrant weeds. I love coaxing something back from a bug or weed attack.
And I can retreat to what's a heaven for when it's all too overwhelming. The perfect beautiful garden. Picture perfect every day.
There is no creeping charlie in heaven.
1 comment:
I enjoyed this so much, I had to come back this morning and read it again.
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