| My garden was in sad shape. It had been neglected for far too long and as I rolled up my sleeves, I resolved to do something about it! It was just past the crack of dawn when I noticed a bunch of slimy slugs eating away at my petunias. So I poured on them some high powered weed killer. I looked like I was wearing HAZMAT gear, but that stuff is dangerous. It did the trick though-- only a few minutes passed before I realized that I had the wrong seeds! The packet I needed was still in the garage in the bucket next to the burning pile, where I throw all the weeds and pine needles and other detritus that needs to get burned up. Once the pile reaches a certain size, then it is time to do some pruning. So get out the special shears and with great vigor attack the dogs which had taken to pooping on the lawn. One bladder-full of liquid waste would wreak havoc with my expensive Mantis tiller, which is however so lightweight, that I can carry it with one hand, while I walk around the block six or seven times. By then my blood is pumping, my head is cleared and I'm ready to spread the compost. Boy is it smelly! Hey I thought it was supposed to be odorless! Maybe it stinks because I was supposed to pick up a truckload of hardwood bark mulch from the nursery. But the truck bed was full of big fat earthworms--so big and fat that they looked like mashed up tatters of former flowers. I yelled, "Hey you kids! Get out of my flowers!" But they were eating all the leaves off my periwinkles. This calls for action! So I mixed up a poison solution and poured it on the fire to put it out! That was close! My chrysanthemums were only slightly singed. Relieved, I filled in the big hole dug by the groundhog, and on top of that dirt I put a big flat tire in the middle of the garden, because I didn't have anywhere else to put it. I then tried to decide what fertilizer to use. I had to choose between organic compost or that big bag of hot air, Joe Blow or Joe Schmoe or whatever his name is. Always offering unsolicited advice. I've got half a mind to take a nap in the nearby hammock. Last summer I had installed the hammock between two pillars made of marble. They were 30 feet tall, 2 feet wide, and frankly they stink and I don't want them in my garden anymore. Away with you! THE END! |