My long Utah winters make the coming of spring and the tulips that are their crowning announcement anxiously anticipated. I herald their first pokings through the earth and fight with great vengance to keep them from the deer (who are no longer beautiful and graceful-but enemies once they enter onto my property) There are few things I wait for with greater excitement and patience than for the time when they reveal their bold and simple colors and brighten my grey weather beaten yard. However, I have found that I am indeed a very fair-weather friend to these tulips, because as soon as they finish their spring show and I find I am wishing that they could hurry up and disappear. I sure hope my children don't have the same attitude towards me after I have reached my prime. I impatiently watch and wait for them to wither and fade (so they can be strong and healthy for next year) but at some point my patience fails me and I violently chop them to the ground during their glowing sunset years.
A picture of my beautiful peonies-who are still on my good list. I love their beautiful foilage even after the blooms have faded.
This is a terrible picture, but if you look very closely you will see a very morbid but
thrilling site-lots of dead snail shells. My uncle Ron sent us some heavy duty bait and it is really doing the job. In the early morning surrounding their favorite plants they can be seen preparing to meet their maker. It is a little embarrassing to admit how much joy this brings me. My delight in their demise has even spread to Capriel who when gardening with me loves the job of taking the snails I find to a patch of poison. I guess I've realized lately that gardening is not really a hobby for the faint hearted. It requires a keen eye for the approaching enemy, and at times a ruthless hand. But I hope that despite the warlike attributes I'm developing, I'll someday have the patience to both wait for, enjoy flowers in their prime and still accept their individual timelines and character flaws. Because really this is what I want others to do for me.
thrilling site-lots of dead snail shells. My uncle Ron sent us some heavy duty bait and it is really doing the job. In the early morning surrounding their favorite plants they can be seen preparing to meet their maker. It is a little embarrassing to admit how much joy this brings me. My delight in their demise has even spread to Capriel who when gardening with me loves the job of taking the snails I find to a patch of poison. I guess I've realized lately that gardening is not really a hobby for the faint hearted. It requires a keen eye for the approaching enemy, and at times a ruthless hand. But I hope that despite the warlike attributes I'm developing, I'll someday have the patience to both wait for, enjoy flowers in their prime and still accept their individual timelines and character flaws. Because really this is what I want others to do for me.
5 comments:
Love the image filled words. We woke up the day after Memorial Day to magets crawling all over our kitchen and living room floors (Ryanna describes them as "wiggly gummy worms). We killed the worms, but never did find the source (which is more than a little disconcerting).
Love it! haha... You are such an amazing writer! I couldn't stop laughing.
Beautifully put. You need to write a book of memoirs. I can just see Priel. You can dig up the Tulips and plant them in the back yard somewhere. They were magnificent when I was there.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts. We too have experienced the war of fending off garden pests.
I have loved reading your entries. You put things to simply yet beautifully. Thanks
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