This is how much of a gardener I am NOT.
I'm slightly (OK maybe a lot) embarrassed to show this picture.
Some friends have laughed, so maybe instead of being embarrassed,
I should choose to laugh too and own up to the fact that I fail miserably in this arena.
I'm slightly (OK maybe a lot) embarrassed to show this picture.
Some friends have laughed, so maybe instead of being embarrassed,
I should choose to laugh too and own up to the fact that I fail miserably in this arena.
THE TRUTH BE TOLD
In all my 6 years of living here, I've never planted a thing in our yard (Dunks hasn't either).
So I finally got up the nerve around Easter and planted flowers.
I was proud. I accomplished! I was a gardener! A good neighbor (my poor neighbors).
After this, it felt like I should have been handed some sort of plaque that said,"you're awesome!"
After this, it felt like I should have been handed some sort of plaque that said,"you're awesome!"
Let's be real, this is just the left side though...
The right side on the other hand, still has flowers (yes from EASTER) sitting in the pots
desperately wanting to be planted.
I'm shocked that they have survived this long.
Rain and storm, they are still alive in the front yard, sitting next to a bag of soil that I have yet to use.
desperately wanting to be planted.
I'm shocked that they have survived this long.
Rain and storm, they are still alive in the front yard, sitting next to a bag of soil that I have yet to use.
::insert shame::
RIGHT SIDE
[only the dark pink flowers are still standing in the pots - whatever they are called]
[only the dark pink flowers are still standing in the pots - whatever they are called]
Also, my sincere apologies to those of you who have come to my house
and left wondering deeply about my poor gardening choices.
AND apologies to any future encounters you might have in my thicket. ;)
and left wondering deeply about my poor gardening choices.
AND apologies to any future encounters you might have in my thicket. ;)
the weeds made for a beautiful picture after a run one morning.
Weeds
In my heart I carry them
Among the flowers they bloom
Thorns, prickers; sharp deceptive tools.
But beyond this jungled attraction
Where weeds have made a distraction
You find beauty rich in soil
Your grace forever loyal.
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