Yes, it's really spring. And although I always say that autumn is my favourite season, I think that deep down I really like spring. The feeling of dirt under my fingernails as I try to distinguish the difference between weeds and what I actually planted last year is so special...so exhilarating. I don't know how many times I've nurtured and coddled a plant only to discover that I've been raising a weed!!! It's like taking care of a kitten that turns out to be a rat.
I remember fondly, the year my 14-year-old son yanked out my gladiola bulbs when he was weeding my pathetic little garden patch. After I got over the shock of learning that the garbage truck had just pulled away with my 20 bulbs @ $1.50 each I was able to pull myself together long enough to thank him for his effort. When I heard him say, "Gee, I wondered what those onion things were," I seized the opportunity to give him a short horticultural lesson.
Not that I'm much of a gardener. I must have at least 30 gardening magazines that I pull out each spring. I use them to plan my garden while I sip coffee and gaze out the window. Sometimes I actually plant some stuff but then we go camping and the garden suffers.
I heard someone say that her plants scream when they see her coming. Mine scream when I leave because they know I won't be back.
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