Come back, Mom!

Whew, y’all, I spent the morning weeding the perennial herbs, the tea rose, and a third of the front bed. What a mess.  Oh god, what a mess.

Every inch of the way, pulling out crab grass and small trees and being poked in the eye by nandina, I thought, I wish my mom was here to help me.

I don’t consciously think of my mom as a gardener.  I actually, weirdly enough, think of my mom as a scientist.  But when I’m in my garden and I’m tugging at some things and putting soil around others and finding the places on the rose that she cut back, I think of her.

And I wish she were here.

I really, with my whole heart, wish that they would retire here.

So, clearly, I have lost my mind.

I think it’s the thirty pounds of weeds I put in the compost pile, releasing chemical toxins causing me to hallucinate.