My bloody garden is on fire this spring

 

I’m experimenting with expanding my dubious minimalist approach to gardening.  Now that our nest is empty, I’m thinking growing flowers is a good idea to occupy my “free time.”

I do have perennials.

Not just dandelions…

You’ll have to trust me on the perennials…they are recovering from the winter.

I call them the “survivors of the fittest.”  And I let them do their own thing.  It works for us bleeding heart lovers.

I started seeds in a tray and have been patiently waiting for the signs of safe to plant in the ground weather to arrive.  Yesterday, I inspected the lot of 72 seed pods and noticed those tiny plant seedlings are starting to die off.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Crap…well, that sucks.

Hmm…

As a novice gardener, I had to ponder the complications in my next steps.  I grabbed breakfast, sat at the table in our teahouse, and watched Mr. mow the lawn.  He’s such a hard worker…I love that about him.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Gardening is hard work, too.  I considered my options for the seedlings.

1. Die in the hatchery tray.
2. Die in the potential frosty morning.

After Mr. got done mowing the lawn, I smiled at the dandelion free yard.  I was thankful I captured a few exceptional shots of the dandelions before he mowed them down.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Mr.’s extra vigilant keeping the grass cut and long weeds trimmed.  All in an effort to keep pesky ticks at bay.  They are far from exhibiting narcissism.  I rarely see them before they attack.  I don’t know what their purpose is other than to scare me and Copper in the spring.  I despise and have no problem torching the nasty little things.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

After destroying the two ticks, instead of jumping right into planting, (thoughts of the tray or frosty death fresh in my mind) I headed out to discover if the signs of safe planting are real or playing tricks on me.

The bleeding hearts are gorgeous.

Flowering crab trees are blooming.

But wait…why’s that branch looking dead instead of blossoming?

Dammit…tent worms…grr…where’s Mr.?  He’ll cut this branch off and burn them.

Oh, yeah, Mr. was already working on his next project.  Oh, dear, it’s not looking so great for me, wandering around while Mr. is working hard.

Maybe Mr. won’t notice?

Mr. moves fast, or maybe I wasn’t paying attention?  I was busy, too…taking pictures.

Mr.:  “Whatcha doing?”

Me:  “Oh, you know, just trying to decide if I should plant my seedlings or not?”

Mr:  “The catalpa trees are budding.”

Me:  “Really?”

Mr:  “Yeah, look up.”

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Me:  “Well, I’ll be darned, guess I’m going to plant my flowers today!  Oh…by the way did you see the tent worms?”

Mr:  “Okay, I’ll add it to my list.”

I set out to plant my seeds.  15 flower beds later, I was reconsidering my plan.  An overachiever effort instead of my usual minimalist approach got me entrenched in the work at hand.  Time slipped away…and my aging bladder played tricks on me.

Dirty hands and all, I had to pee…NOW….RUN…no, walk fast…

Me:  “Hon, Hon, HON….come here…come HERE, NOW!”

Mr:  “What???  I heard you yelling, WHAT?”

I stood there in the bathroom, pants down around my ankles, pointing at a tick on my right thigh…

Me:  “Can you take it off my leg for me?”

Mr:  Chuckling…”Yeah, but why didn’t you?”

Me:  “Well…I had to pee so bad so I couldn’t stop to wash my hands first.  They’re still dirty, look…and I only have one more flower bed to go…”

Mr. reached into the medicine cabinet for the tick picking tools, shut the door, and I glanced in the mirror.  My less than attractive windblown hairdo had fallen out of the clip while I was working.  I flicked my hair off to the side. Yikes, what was that?… Is it dirt…?  Is that what I think it is on my face?  There it was…SHIT….a bastard tick was stuck in my left cheek.  Argh…………….WTH?

Me:  “Wait…that’s TWO, no, it’s THREE ticks that have bitten me this year…I’ll be right back…”

Mr. smiles as he watches me walk back and forth (pants still down exposing the tick to be removed) to my office to grab the small jar I’m using to keep the ticks I’ve been bitten by this season (in alcohol…for posterity sake or if they need to be tested for Lymes disease…?) 

Me:  Stop gawking at me, check everywhere, look at my legs and back…do you see more?

Mr.: Still smiling…”Nope, you’re good.”

Me: “What?”

Mr:  “Are you done parading around? Hold still, I’ll get the ticks.”

Me:  “Damn ticks, it must have happened when I tried to get a picture of the nest in the backyard.”

Mr.:  “So that’s why your camera and the lighter were sitting on the back deck?  I put it inside for you, it’s downstairs in the bar.”

Me:  “Yeah, after I took a bazillion shots trying to catch a picture of the ticks I set it on the deck.  I torched the bastards…”

Mr.:  “Good thing you didn’t burn down the deck – there’s a burning ban on, don’t ya know?”

Me:  “Yeah…the grass went up in smoke pretty fast…I think I’m done gardening for the day…”

Gardening and bug burning adventures to be continued…

PS…every blog post I wonder, what is a good title?  I’d love to hear what you think would’ve been a good title for this post?