Pleasant Valley Sunday.
That's kind of the image I was going for today when we got home from a really fun lunch after our second church service today. The kids were upstairs playing in the air conditioning and Steve was dutifully mowing our lawn, then our neighbor's lawn, in the hot temperatures I love so much. So I figured I could spend the same time in the shaded flower bed that has been my first excursion into the world of gardening.
Anyone who knows me is well aware of the fact that I'm about as domestic as a bulldozer. (And I have the tendency to leave a comparable swath of destruction in my path, too.) But hey, how hard could it really be to dig some holes in dirt, drop a few store bought flowers into the holes, and soak them down with water every four or five days?
.... Once the real gardeners laugh themselves out and catch their collective breath, we'll continue.
Believe it or not, the flowers are actually doing rather well. Granted, I started easy and bought a half dozen petunias, three flox plants, and two vine looking things I can't actually identify but the fact that they're ALL still alive is pretty darned impressive!
Now for the fun part. *grumble* While I'd been warned about the dangers of weeds, I don't think it really sank in just how troublesome the little beasts are. There is quite literally a battle line drawn in my flower bed/weed bed. The left side is most definitely under the control of Mother Nature. The right side is currently my domain and I'm determined it's going to stay that way.
So, back to my personal rendition of the Monkees song. I decided to do a bit of weeding to redefine the boundary between my flowers and the encroaching wilderness by my sidewalk. In my "garden" there's one rule of thumb that is pretty safe to follow: if it's green, healthy, and thriving.... yank it out of the ground.
Two hours later and I believe I know EXACTLY how the creator of The Day of the Triffids came up with his story.
Exhibit A: (image taken from another Blogspot blog "Black Hole")
Coincidence? Not a chance. No way. No how. I firmly believe that the person who came up with the story of The Day of the Triffids did so shortly after spending the afternoon losing a war with weeds, or after spending the evening listening to the ranting and raving of someone who did.
...anyone got a flamethrower and rock garden I can invest in?