I'm reading a new book. I'm reading Spiritual Gardening to get ideas. Well, sort of. It's more like wishing for ritam. Abbra-Kadabra. Presto-change-o. Spin around three times and spit over your shoulder. POOOOFF! We have a tickley waterfall and pond with softly sculpted rocks... a wooden Monet bench sleepily tucked amongst the honeysuckle. Ivies dervishing up and around the garden shed (aka science lab.) A grassy knoll, a vintage fountain, birds lazily spitting out their latest tune. My verdanda chairs covered with sprightly cushions and there's a pitcher of homemade lemonade nearby. Ahhhhhhh. Life- after reading Spiritual Gardening. Ommmmmm.
POOOOOOFF! Ut-oh. I'm back. Wow... how long was I gone? It is as if every weed in town has sought assylum in our compound, burrowing beneath fence, wall and concrete just because I spaced out for a few.... months? (Actually we have the weed problem because apparently some weedy news team sent out a news flash. FLASH: "Them folks on Cherry St. don't use the "R" word." Round-up, that is.)
There is no Monet bench in my yard... yet. There is no gurgling pond or splashy fountain... yet. Or pickety fence. But there will be. One day. For now, what we do have plenty of are ... weeds, but you already knew that. (YES, of course, we pick them!!) It's just that they keep a'comin. So... I'm thinking of starting over. Spiritually scourging ourselves of the weeds- Tearing the place apart without the use of chemicals. We can do this! We have to do this. So the bench and knoll and fountain can come to life. POOOOF!!!
No offense weeds, but you gotta go.
