Monday, November 27, 2006

Simply Simple

The first and simplest emotion which we discover in the human mind, is curiosity.-- Edmund Burke

I believe him. I'm obviously more simple than the average bear. And sometimes (ok, 90% of the time) it's my downfall. I can't help it...I want to know why, when, where and how that plant grows. Ick, I sound like a garden reporter. At least, thanks to the internet, I don't have to haunt the library, only getting the 'experts' views on everything. I can get hands-on-been-there-done-that from real people. With pictures even!

I discovered a casualty in the front flowerbed this weekend; the white rose my SIL bought me at a Dollar Shop sale in the spring. Though the magnifying glass didn't uncover much forensic evidence, I suspect the local no-gooders. Why are they messing with me, for Pete sake? I'm not the one dressed in orange, stealing stealthily through the naked woods with gun slung across my back to have an 8 point trophy adorning my living room wall! I'm quite happy to leave their heads attatched to their bodies. Maybe just knock a few teeth out.

There was only one decimated cane, but still, it broke my heart. So, in it came and promptly got pruned into 3 cuttings, plopped into some potting soil, sealed in a soda bottle, wrapped in an enigma...

I'm crossing my fingers, though I don't hold out much hope. Hey, it's still sending out leaves, so there's hope, right? Right? (I am soooo ignoring you nay-sayers right now).

SIL informed me yesterday (yes, the same that buys me plants I love, which either get destroyed with no evidence of why, or defiantly croak on me, also with no evidence of why) that someone in town had a huge gob of potted mums in the trash pile for Monday's yard waste pickup.

Say what?
D gave her the 'Why do you have to tell her this stuff' look and sighed. Of course, she smiled triumphantly and proceeded to tell me where. Now, if I had been driving we would have made it in time, but no, D had to dawdle and I missed the pots. The neighbor dumped the mums upside down uncerimoniously and swiped them to use as protection for...something.

But - I got the mums! Happy dance! Woohooooo! All mine baby, all mine! Broken and trampled, but mine.
The bad, bad wasters (I can't help it - they are!) left a bunch of gourds and pumpkins too, in perfect condition no less, but I wasn't sure if they were the cooking kind or not. Can you cook and consume any pumpkin? See, now I think I should have snatched those too! And I could have made bird houses and feeders from the gourds!! Damn!! Can you hear me smashing my head on the desk? Well, there wasn't any more room in the trunk anyway?

I wonder what time the town starts the pickup in that area...

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2 comments:

Sissy said...

I hope those mums turn out to be hardy, in your zone, Tina! Sometimes, those florist mums are not cold hardy...but what have you got to lose!!??!

sewobsessed said...

Sissy,
They're the hardy. They aren't the florist kind, they still had the tags even. The tags look really familiar to hubby, and he thinks they may have come from 'The Mum Farm'. Like I care where they came from, as long as they were rescued from the trash and planted in my yard! lol.