I spent the weekend lying in the weeds.
I mean, I was literally lying in the weeds…
It’s that time of year again when lawns and gardens and all sorts of growing things, need to be tended and in some cases removed.
So I was literally lying in the weeds…and the bushes and the dirt and the hydrangeas
Especially the hydrangeas.
It had to be done.
The old one had gotten a little too comfortable in its roots.
Was getting a little too lippy for its own good—and mine—so out it went.
Replaced by a brand new, already blooming, little hydrangea; one that I can shape and mold after my own image.
Nahhhhhh…not really…that would be weird.
In fact if a hydrangea was a lot like me it would be an awful lot like the one I just got rid of.
Of course none of this is true…I mean, except for the part about switching plants.
The rest of it I made up, as I tend to do.
Have you noticed?
Plants don’t have personalities…at least not in the sane rationale world.
So it would be in-sane to think that they did.
So in truth, as opposed to in lies, all I did was swap out my old hydrangea with a new one. I didn't even get rid of the old one. I just moved it across the way, next to the out of control, bushy bamboo.
You know…the one with authority issues.
I should probably explain, not that a discussion of hydrangeas is all that interesting, nor one that I ever thought in my wildest imagination I would ever spend any significant amount of time on.
Lilacs and Butterfly Bushes…maybe…but not hydrangeas.
But yet, here we are.
So briefly, which, I know, I’ve already exceeded, the reason I had to do all this hydrangea swapping was because the first spring, after moving into our house, some 11 and a half years ago, we received this tiny hydrangea bush as a housewarming gift.
I later planted, said bush, next to the also newly planted lilac bush, which then led to both Z and I deciding another bush was needed to balance out the other side.
Well, Z decided, and since she is the Master Gardener, I usually just go along with whatever she says.
So I, being the Gracious Gardener, to Z’s Master status, went off, on my own—always a mistake—to the big hardware store to purchase another hydrangea.
Not a big deal…I could handle that, which I did—graciously—only to discover, sometime later, after it bloomed, that this hydrangea was nothing at all like the old hydrangea.
Who knew there were different types of hydrangeas?
Probably a lot of people, but certainly not me.
Hey…I’m the Gracious Gardener, not the Smart Gardener.
I mean, without flowers, who can tell…especially if you don’t look at the little picture tag on the side.
So for 11 years we’ve lived with this “other” hydrangea and told ourselves, diversity was good…at least until I could motivate myself to go back to the big hardware store and find the correct hydrangea.
Motivate being the operative word.
But, as with so many things in life, fate intervened and this past Easter we received yet another hydrangea gift, already flowering, so there could be no mistake.
Everything in is time...right?
Surely a sign from the universe, because the universe has nothing better to do than send me signs concerning my hydrangea situation.
But that was that…in with the new and out with the old.
I even got to swing my badly underutilized pick ax and dug a big hole in the ground.
Always a plus for the Gracious Gardener.
And they tell me I’ll regain full use of both arms, in time.
Plus my back should straighten out in a few days…with or without the searing pain.
But who’s gonna do these things if not me?
I guess a professional gardener, but that would conflict with my penchant for cheapness.
The bottom line is it worked out for everybody.
The new hydrangea—who I have not named Peaches—is happy in the first real place of her own.
The Lilac—who is not named Lilly—is happy to now have symmetrical roommates on either side.
And Lacey…I mean, the older, odd hydrangea…seems happy, despite the occasional droopy spell, in her new, sunnier spot next to Barry…I mean, the bus
All just a part of another day for the Gracious Gardner….