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Arthritic hands, a crook back and gardening do not a happy partnership make, especially when the garden in question contains world class weeds.
Our weeds could compete in the Olympics.
We already had a good crop before Grant obtained a load of topsoil two years ago which imported a whole new range of them.
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With time quickly escaping me and the promise of still more rain later in the day, I grabbed the seed packets after breakfast this morning and went out to get them in the ground.
Planting seeds is such a positive sort of activity. You’d think it would be a delight. It should be.
But you don’t know my garden.
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Whereas I am almost incapable of persuading a flower to grow, my weeds flourish with no encouragement whatsoever.
Each year I entertain the idea of simply changing my mindset, simply embracing the weeds and to an extent I’ve had to do just that.
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While I am perfectly able to bend or to kneel, the necessity of doing so for more than a few minutes involves later punishment that is these days more severe than I am willing to tolerate, especially since the pain clinic appears to have lost interest in my case.
Many weeds are lovely or, if not quite so, at least easy to tolerate. They are welcome to remain.
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It’s the industrial-strength ones I take issue with. They creep everywhere throttling all other growth while putting out large unattractive leaves, like the thugs that they are.
In principle, I have nothing against them and I am perfectly thrilled for them to thrive – elsewhere.
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In any case, striving to be an optimist, this morning I went out to plant seeds only to be confronted with said weeds.
Less than halfway through the job, I’d totally stopped caring whether the seeds ever grew or didn’t.
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Even in a weed-free world, it seems to me that planting seeds is tedious, at least those that are so tiny. I can barely see the wretched things, never mind pick them up.
Every year I start with good intentions, finding a small coffee spoon with which in theory to sew my seeds and every year, catching sight of the flowerbed, I abandon the idea.
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It’s all very well, if you have a pristine bed of soil, to make tidy little holes in which to drop a seed, but when all you have to work with is yards of weedy waste, it’s apt to discourage you.
Furthermore, the ground being so wet, it is claggy which is no joy to work with. Oh, excuses, I know.
The day was cool and no insects swooped to feast on me. There’s always something to be grateful for.
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Just as I was dragging my tools back to the shed, Grant shot out of a door:
“Oh, there you are! Want to go to the village?”
Really, I didn’t, but alright then…
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The sighting we ended up making turned out to be not quite as exciting as we’d thought, once we viewed the images, never the less…
We’d only intended going to the post office and back but because I’d not noticed a single thing in the village to photograph, Grant decided we should find something.
The flowering trees at the end of our road ought to have satisfied the requirement and it’s not as if I am short of inventory….
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…but I’m always game for a view of Stump Church.
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Sometimes there are ducks or a kingfisher at the nearby pond. Today it was just reflections.
Carrying on, we noticed a worksite ahead and turned in the opposite direction to avoid it.
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A very grey-green day!
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Because we’d made that turn, we soon came upon a pair of geese that hissed at us angrily…
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As well they should because they had seven goslings.
Not wanting to scare them, we drove slowly by without stopping for a decent photo, but it’s always a delight to see babies!
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The geese were beside a flooded wetland and only a few yards down the road we stopped to see if this other pair had babies, which is when Grant spotted movement in the water…
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As it turned out, it was not a beaver.
Though they are similar in appearance, except for the tail.
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What we’d found was a hungry muskrat.
A sort of aquatic groundhog.
A second muskrat appeared on another bed of reeds and I made a short video but I should warn you that my hand waved about!
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It would be exciting to see a beaver, but we enjoy seeing any animal and this was a new one for us.
It’s rather sweet.
This is the reason I almost always accept a ride.
There’s seldom a time we don’t see something.
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” Suddenly you don’t care about us?”
I do. I always will!
Thank you so much, Carolyn, for the wonderful post! As you rightly said, there is always something exciting to see when you go for a drive, and today we saw something sweet, cute, and new, as not many people knew this aquatic creature. Thank you!
By the way, I love the fluffy babies and their parents too!
Joanna
Wonderful, even if it wasn’t a beaver!
Some very dramatic landscape pictures, and the “aquatic groundhog” is adorable!
I enjoyed seeing the Muskrat on video, reminding me of Muskie in the Deputy Dawg cartoons. I would also have mistaken it for a Beaver when it was swimming. Goats might be possible, if you can build a simple shelter for them and fence them off so they don’t run away.
Best wishes, Pete.
I think it’s a fact that weeds grow more easily than flowers or plants – that’s why I convince myself that the little flowers I see growing on the grass are indeed flowers (and not really weed). I’ve never seen a muskrat before (I would think it’s a beaver). That’s what’s so nice about your blog – I learn so much about all the different animals!