Gardening – Curse #85J-B6 – Guest Blog

Posted on February 17, 2011

3


I love gnomes.

Mom used to have an entire garden full of them, rotund little bearded buggers dashing between the rose bushes and ruining the hydrangeas. Winter was always quiet -sullen, but I knew that the gnomes were laying in wait. Spring was hiding just beneath the snow and the gnomes were plotting in anticipation. In no time at all I’d be outstretched in the grass, watching them scurry just behind her, thwarting her gardening efforts as they nibbled at stems and peed on buds.

Poor mom.

She used to joke that she must have a black thumb; she never could figure out why the Hibiscus never bloomed.  Three springs she wasted pinching branches and digging up dirt. Long after I’d grown bored of watching them she’d be out there letting the season’s new sun beat down on her, only to come in empty handed and ripe with sweat and earth.  Mom went grey fretting over that doomed little garden of hers. I knew what the problem was, of course, but lacked the heart to tell her that it didn’t matter how strategic her ratio of shelter from wind to light exposure was – the Hibiscus would never grow.

Herbert would make sure of that.

(Thanks, TooNervousToEatPie, for being my first guest blogger.)

Advertisements