In Which I Complain about My Good Fortune

It took me almost no time to prune the nandina because the Butcher trimmed it up and also the holly while I was at the dealership. So, I thought I’d start on the side bed where the bluebells grow. Mostly, it’s just me in there cutting down privet, the only harmless plant in the garden that makes me believe in just concreting over everything.

But there’s also some grass in there.

Fine. I was just going to dig them up when I realized that some is not grass. Some are hyacinths. I repeat. I’ve lived here three, going on four years, and I have NEVER planted hyacinths, nor have any, that I recollect, volunteered.

Until now.

Which, you know, is nice, but it means I can’t just pull up everything that has a blade-like leaf. I have to check and make sure it’s actually grass.

Which seems like a petty thing to complain about. But there it is.

In other gardening news, my roses look amazing this year. Better than they’ve looked since I’ve been here. If I can keep the bugs off them, the blooms should be great fun.

2 thoughts on “In Which I Complain about My Good Fortune

  1. Yay gardening talk!

    I spent today getting rid of the last of the daylilies that came with this garden (that never bloom, plus daylilies, meh), cursing and digging up the neighbor’s invading monkey grass (Jesus I hate that stuff, give me a yard of clover and dandelions any day) and putting in my tiny vegetable garden. Then I planted some wildflower seeds and a baby lavender plant that I bought for the hell of it. Previous owners put in a rosebush which has small and somewhat tacky fuschia roses, and it refuses to die. Every year I debate pulling it out, but every year I leave it.

    Plus some mysterious mint I can’t ID has moved in; I told it it could stay if it would push out the goddamn English ivy that I keep pulling up. I hope to outsmart the weeds by way of aggressive smelly herbs and wildflowers.

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