Notes to my garden
Jun. 7th, 2016 10:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grammarwomanThe month-long event on my ridiculous Marvel phone tappy game ended today, and the radio forecast predicted that this weekend will hit 90 degrees, so to celebrate the former and get ahead of the latter, I did some gardening tonight. There were some words exchanged with the greenery.
Dear raspberries,
We've had beautiful weather, and the few early offerings were delicious, so I'm expecting great things from you. You're the only produce from the garden that my son will pick and eat, so PLEASE, berry your stems off.
Dear raspberries in the herb garden and side bed,
Guys, you are completely lost and undesirable in your current location. You're getting booted in the fall, so enjoy your last hurrah.
Dear thistles,
In case you hadn't noticed, this is a staunchly Irish household. We'd put up with your Scottish stubbornness if you weren't prickly as hell and painful to touch. You don't even bloom prettily, and you spread all over the damned place. Take a lesson from the oxalis, who at least try to look like shamrocks with cute little flowers while not stinging the unwary wanderer. On second thought, just GTFO.
Dear nightshade,
You are not clematis, got it? You may try with your vining ways and your purple flowers, but you are pernicious and poisonous, and entirely unwanted. I can't turn around without finding you having crept somewhere else. STOP IT.
Dear clematis,
You know you're one of my favorites, with your deep purple blossoms and your willingness to return every year despite my lackluster care. Would it kill you to stay on your trellis and not twine your way through the encroaching raspberries? No one can see or appreciate you when you're that deep in the canes and foliage. Besides, I've already warned the raspberries that they're not long for the world; get back on your own support.
Dear fake bamboo/weird grass stuff,
Even if you were actual bamboo, I do not have any actual pandas to keep you in check, and therefore GTFO. Though I have to give you props for being so easy to pull. Thanks for that.
Dear lilies of the valley, irises, peonies, and tulips:
You lovelies were absolutely gorgeous this year - job well done. Thanks for a beautiful show! I'll be around to deadhead you soon, then I'll see you next spring; maybe I'll even get the fall leaves cleared off your beds before you're a foot high.
Dear maple wingdings,
I am not running a goddamned maple tree farm here. Stop sprouting everywhere! You make me want to take a flamethrower to my patio and everywhere else your piles wash up. After my gutters get replaced this summer and have shields installed on them, knock on wood, you will have no place left to hide. Enjoy your rooftop view while you can.
Dear burning bush,
Sorry for the hack job; you were reaching out so far that I couldn't pull into the garage without scooting over a couple of feet. To a woman with an electric hedge trimmer, everything looks like a wannabe topiary. You didn't need those side branches anyway.
Dear creeping yellow stuff,
I was tempted to let you be, because you weren't stealing room from any desired plants, you don't have prickers, and you didn't tower over everything. However, the ants are obstreperous enough with the detritus stuck in the sidewalk cracks. I don't need to give them footwide swaths of the path in which to hide. Sorry. Better luck next time.
Dear bunnies,
You won last year, eating every plant in my garden. I see you enjoying that our backyard is the only unsprayed area in the immediate neighborhood. I left you the clover, and it looks like we have some enterprising wild strawberries. Enjoy those, because I'm putting chicken wire around the garden, and you are not getting in again.
Dear ash trees, virginia creeper, and umbrella plants lurking in the back border,
YOU'RE NEXT.
Dear raspberries,
We've had beautiful weather, and the few early offerings were delicious, so I'm expecting great things from you. You're the only produce from the garden that my son will pick and eat, so PLEASE, berry your stems off.
Dear raspberries in the herb garden and side bed,
Guys, you are completely lost and undesirable in your current location. You're getting booted in the fall, so enjoy your last hurrah.
Dear thistles,
In case you hadn't noticed, this is a staunchly Irish household. We'd put up with your Scottish stubbornness if you weren't prickly as hell and painful to touch. You don't even bloom prettily, and you spread all over the damned place. Take a lesson from the oxalis, who at least try to look like shamrocks with cute little flowers while not stinging the unwary wanderer. On second thought, just GTFO.
Dear nightshade,
You are not clematis, got it? You may try with your vining ways and your purple flowers, but you are pernicious and poisonous, and entirely unwanted. I can't turn around without finding you having crept somewhere else. STOP IT.
Dear clematis,
You know you're one of my favorites, with your deep purple blossoms and your willingness to return every year despite my lackluster care. Would it kill you to stay on your trellis and not twine your way through the encroaching raspberries? No one can see or appreciate you when you're that deep in the canes and foliage. Besides, I've already warned the raspberries that they're not long for the world; get back on your own support.
Dear fake bamboo/weird grass stuff,
Even if you were actual bamboo, I do not have any actual pandas to keep you in check, and therefore GTFO. Though I have to give you props for being so easy to pull. Thanks for that.
Dear lilies of the valley, irises, peonies, and tulips:
You lovelies were absolutely gorgeous this year - job well done. Thanks for a beautiful show! I'll be around to deadhead you soon, then I'll see you next spring; maybe I'll even get the fall leaves cleared off your beds before you're a foot high.
Dear maple wingdings,
I am not running a goddamned maple tree farm here. Stop sprouting everywhere! You make me want to take a flamethrower to my patio and everywhere else your piles wash up. After my gutters get replaced this summer and have shields installed on them, knock on wood, you will have no place left to hide. Enjoy your rooftop view while you can.
Dear burning bush,
Sorry for the hack job; you were reaching out so far that I couldn't pull into the garage without scooting over a couple of feet. To a woman with an electric hedge trimmer, everything looks like a wannabe topiary. You didn't need those side branches anyway.
Dear creeping yellow stuff,
I was tempted to let you be, because you weren't stealing room from any desired plants, you don't have prickers, and you didn't tower over everything. However, the ants are obstreperous enough with the detritus stuck in the sidewalk cracks. I don't need to give them footwide swaths of the path in which to hide. Sorry. Better luck next time.
Dear bunnies,
You won last year, eating every plant in my garden. I see you enjoying that our backyard is the only unsprayed area in the immediate neighborhood. I left you the clover, and it looks like we have some enterprising wild strawberries. Enjoy those, because I'm putting chicken wire around the garden, and you are not getting in again.
Dear ash trees, virginia creeper, and umbrella plants lurking in the back border,
YOU'RE NEXT.
