After a nice heavy rain, our flowerbeds are lush and green with weeds. It almost thrills me to see something growing out of the perpetual dirt. But if I want to grow something pretty in the flowerbeds this year (I say that every year, eventually it will be true), I need to pull those weeds. Even if I don't grow flowers this year, the least I can do is keep my flowerbeds dirt-y.
When I said we have dirt flowerbeds with no flowers, that is true. It is also true that we have a dirt side yard, a dirt rectangle in our backyard waiting to be turned into a patio, a dirt "garden" behind the garage, and more dirt flowerbeds by the back fence. All this dirt is anxious to pop out tiny hopeful weeds that mutate into spiky devil-weeds if given half a chance. My last four summers have been spent weeding this dirt. Keep the dirt clean, that's my motto.
I've always kind of liked weeding, especially when the ground is soft from rain. In ten minutes of weeding, I can see my progress, which keeps me going. The process of weeding often makes me think weeds are symbolic of something deeper, but I'm always too distracted to figure it out. That's another thing I like about weeding, my mind goes blank enough that the only statement I've ever come up with is "You shall not pass!" when I conquer a particularly tough weed. Having a blank mind is a treat for someone who analyzes everything constantly.
So anyway, this morning I noticed after the heavy rain the last two days, the side yard weeds looked particularly healthy. I put on my silicone gloves, and trudged through the mud to pull the spiky, waist-high weeds. As my pile of long, leafy stalks grew, I felt like a farmer harvesting my crop. What a shame all these giant plants were not useful.
Suddenly I had a brilliant idea. I would spread the weeds over the largest flowerbed in order to keep down the weeds, if that worked it would be the essence of irony. Weeds to stop weeds. Besides, it would cover the expanse of brown with green, which might look like something nice was growing there.
So I did. I spread my pile of weeds in the flowerbed to look like ground cover. But the flowerbed was really big and all those weeds, which seemed infinite when I pulled them, didn't adequately cover all the dirt. I needed more weeds, but now the side yard was clean, and all the other dirt sections of our yard only had puny, baby weeds.
If I had more weeds, I could cover all the flowerbeds and the "patio" to make it slightly more usable. Maybe I should have let those weeds grow longer. Maybe I should let all the dirt go to maximize my weed yield. There were so many uses for weeds why would anyone throw them away? I want more weeds!
I'm sure there is a life lesson in here somewhere. If you think of one, send it my way. My mind is still blank from the weeding.
Maybe I'll never grow flowers. I like the weeds too much. (Seriously, there has to be metaphor in here somewhere.)
When I said we have dirt flowerbeds with no flowers, that is true. It is also true that we have a dirt side yard, a dirt rectangle in our backyard waiting to be turned into a patio, a dirt "garden" behind the garage, and more dirt flowerbeds by the back fence. All this dirt is anxious to pop out tiny hopeful weeds that mutate into spiky devil-weeds if given half a chance. My last four summers have been spent weeding this dirt. Keep the dirt clean, that's my motto.
I've always kind of liked weeding, especially when the ground is soft from rain. In ten minutes of weeding, I can see my progress, which keeps me going. The process of weeding often makes me think weeds are symbolic of something deeper, but I'm always too distracted to figure it out. That's another thing I like about weeding, my mind goes blank enough that the only statement I've ever come up with is "You shall not pass!" when I conquer a particularly tough weed. Having a blank mind is a treat for someone who analyzes everything constantly.
So anyway, this morning I noticed after the heavy rain the last two days, the side yard weeds looked particularly healthy. I put on my silicone gloves, and trudged through the mud to pull the spiky, waist-high weeds. As my pile of long, leafy stalks grew, I felt like a farmer harvesting my crop. What a shame all these giant plants were not useful.
Suddenly I had a brilliant idea. I would spread the weeds over the largest flowerbed in order to keep down the weeds, if that worked it would be the essence of irony. Weeds to stop weeds. Besides, it would cover the expanse of brown with green, which might look like something nice was growing there.
So I did. I spread my pile of weeds in the flowerbed to look like ground cover. But the flowerbed was really big and all those weeds, which seemed infinite when I pulled them, didn't adequately cover all the dirt. I needed more weeds, but now the side yard was clean, and all the other dirt sections of our yard only had puny, baby weeds.
If I had more weeds, I could cover all the flowerbeds and the "patio" to make it slightly more usable. Maybe I should have let those weeds grow longer. Maybe I should let all the dirt go to maximize my weed yield. There were so many uses for weeds why would anyone throw them away? I want more weeds!
I'm sure there is a life lesson in here somewhere. If you think of one, send it my way. My mind is still blank from the weeding.
Maybe I'll never grow flowers. I like the weeds too much. (Seriously, there has to be metaphor in here somewhere.)