I went to Knoxville for a family birthday party over the Memorial Day weekend and was awed by the beauty of the lush landscaping on Interstate 40 – the result of two weeks of solid rain.
Driving back over the Cumberland Plateau down I-40, the views were breathtaking. The wildflowers weren’t blooming yet and the flowering trees were past their prime, but everything was so verdant and rich the scenery took my breath away.
I think every one of the gazilliion raindrops that fell in Murfreesboro for two weeks germinated a weed in my yard … every single one.
I’ve never seen so many unwanted sprigs in such a short period of time.
I have enough hackberry seedlings to cover Mt. Pisgah Forest and have even pulled up sprouts that produce orange cosmos, the likes of which we haven’t seen in four years.
Never plant orange cosmos. The purple and pink ones are fine; but if you plant the orange variety you’ll be wrangling with them for the next five, make that next nine years. I can’t believe weeds we hoped to eradicate four years ago have re-reared their ugly heads to haunt us, but it’s true.
Those weeds – and some errant coffee beans – were such a headache years ago that we paid son John to pull them when he wanted spending money one lazy summer.
That disheartening challenge lasted my Gen-Y'er one day. After eight hours, he was off, looking for more meaningful work.
Before I left town to visit my new grandbaby, I virtually weeded the whole herb garden (about 100 square feet.) and planted a tomato plant.
I’ve lost interest in planting tomatoes due to the raccoons, squirrels and deer that cohabitate in my yard, but I just can’t go through spring without planting one tomato plant. I was even blessed with a volunteer cherry tomato or two in years past. But I never seemed to get around to picking the cherry ones when they were ripe, and when I wanted some for a salad, there weren’t enough. This year practicality (and the reality of this economy) prevailed and I didn’t plant one. Wonder if I’ll miss it? I can still find them at the Farmer’s Market if I need them ... if the rains haven’t drowned them out, too.
I was welcomed home to a herb garden that was not only overgrown, but represented one giant patch of crabgrass, hackberry sprouts and alien weeds. Quel dommage! It’s going to take a village to find some order there.
As much as I dislike hackberries, I wish I could wish some into mature trees and share them with our neighbors in the Riverview area.
Saying that parts of that neighborhood look like a war zone doesn’t even come close to describing it; empty lots where homes were, green lawns reduced to red clay and contractor’s trucks up and down the street, hoping to restore order to those poor victims. Their trials represent scenarios throughout the county, and it will take years to make them look like neighborhoods again.
If you have an extra budding oak tree, bulbs or other plants to divide (no weeds!), call a friend in one of those areas. They might not be able to use them now, but might take a raincheck for the fall.
Prayers, good wishes and big hugs are important, but sharing material things is important, too. Gift certificates and casseroles, duplicate photographs (in frames), scrapbooks and reminders of happier times are all welcomed, but are also reminders that those things can be handmade “by fools like me. But only God can make a tree.”
‘Til next week. |
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