My son Joe gave me a beautiful hanging planter on Mother’s
day. Pink and white blossoms in a huge
basket, long flowery tendrils hanging over the side, robust dark green
leaves. He walked into the house, kissed
me and handed it over.
“Happy Mothers Day!”
“Thanks Joe”
Then, chiming in from the corner of the room, another voice.
“So, Joe what did that plant ever do to you? Did it indicate in any way that it had a
death wish or were you just being sadistic?”
Rob. My second
child. How well he knows me!
Enter my mother.
She said to Joe, “Nice plant!” Then turning to me she added,
“Maybe you should just give it to me.”
Everyone’s a comedian.
I decided it was high time I grew something… and had it
survive.
How hard could it really be?
I mean, it’s spring and the whole neighborhood is brimming with people
tending little plants. If they could do it, why can’t I? Most are growing
vegetables, a booming business in this economic downturn. Because of it, walking around my neighborhood
has become a lot more fun than it used to be!
I get guys talking to me about their jumbo cucumbers-and they are quite
forthcoming with details related to how big they will get with some tender
loving care. The lady down the road told
me that she traded in her Small Fry tomatoes for Supersonic VF Hybrid grafted ones-
explaining that they will keep their firmness when everyone else’s have
shriveled and were hanging on the ground. I was able to learn a number of fertilization
techniques from the couple next door, but I digress….
I created my own little garden, a small piece of heaven and
cost effective nutrition.
Growing tiny
seedlings and transplanting them to the tilled and fertilized outdoor garden
went better than expected. I made sure
they would have enough sun and made certain they were close to a water source
as insufficient quantities of both have derailed my gardens in previous years. I
planted them tenderly, with little stakes at the beginning of each row
indicating what vegetable my family would be enjoying in a few months and
watered my little bambinos. Then I put
up a little fence so the area was cordoned off- a necessary visual barrier for
the kids as verbal instructions are rarely successful without reinforcement.
All was going very well for close to 18 hours.
Just so you know, that’s probably a record for me.
As I was letting my puppy in from outside, I noticed she had
a sprig of green in her mouth. I stood there, not quite comprehending for a few
very long moments, knowing it looked a lot like one of the carrot plants I had
sown, but not understanding how it possibly could be. Reality slowly dawned. I eased my head toward the garden, terrified
to look. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, my worst fears were confirmed. I was met with a vast, nuclear wasteland here
my garden should have been….grey, flat…..dead.
There were partial plant
carcasses strewn about haphazardly,
holes were dug, and a little pile of
puppy dung sat in the center where my one pumpkin plant should have been.
My fence had been breached, violated by an overzealous ten pound Boston Terrier.
I have concluded that I will serve our economy best by
purchasing vegetables at our local farm stand…
I stopped in front of my Mother’s house, knowing that what I
was about to do was the right thing. I
tenderly placed the basket Joe gave me in a blanket, nestled a bottle of plant
food between its blossoms and placed the bundle on her stoop. I rang the
doorbell, then ran and hid until I was sure mom answered and watched as she
brought it in the house.
