Potent Potables

Chickie's Garden Show-n-Tell
I finally got around to putting the finishing touches on my tiny plot of flowers. It was so cold for so long that I figured it would just be barren soil this year. I spent a pretty penny down at the flower farm, but she's worth it. I like sitting on my front steps enjoying all the colors and the butterflies it attracts. The only thing missing are some beautiful wild poppies. You know the kind that grow as part of wildflower highway projects? One night, I'll sneak out and steal some. Not only will they be colorful, they'll have smack making properties.

Leroy is still slumping there in his terminal state. I don't have the heart to remove him because miracles happen, maybe not in the sandy soil that I'm too lazy to do anything about, but you never know!

Garden Envy
I like to walk through my neighborhood and see what others do in their limited spaces. Mr. Perfect Lawn favors Tiger Lillies. One family grows loads of Bok Choy. Super Mom always has massive sunflowers. I like seeing them all, but nothing compares to Master Gardener's house. It seems like it changes month to month and gets more beautiful than before. Last year she had a glorious abundance of tomatoes mixed in with a wide variety of flowers. My son was always itching to take "just one". This year, she started the spring with daffodils. Later, it became a mini-field of peonies in all kinds of colors. Unfortunately, a violent storm came and decimated her blooms. Not to be deterred, Master Gardener has a new project, she put in a peach tree! I think I'm more thrilled about this than she is, she just doesn't know it because we've never even met.

Deforestation
Mr. Perfect Lawn seems to have succeeded in harassing the Homeowners Association because someone came out and destroyed The Jungle. I'm not mourning too much because I know it will just grow again. I just never had the chance to trash it properly for the benefit of prospective buyers in this neighborhood. Mr. Perfect Lawn did shriek at his wife to "shut the fuck up" in the middle of the street so I guess that's enough trash here for now.

On Homesickness
Every summer without fail, I get to feeling homesick for Georgia. I don't know if it's because I see a certain patch of vegetation or the way the air smells on a humid morning or just passing by a ramshackle house, but it always leads to my heart clenching. I'm sure if I went back, I would be disapointed by what I saw. My memories have probably become gilded over the years. When you fix a place as home in your mind, it's hard just to forget it. James Taylor's Carolina in My Mind is often a good remedy and an invitation to rot on the floor. You just have to allow a little grieving and then swallow your longing and continue with your day.