blog, funny, gardening, hobby, Uncategorized

What Is A Weed, Anyway?

I love to garden, but I don’t know much about plants.

I can’t remember any of my plants names, whether they should get full or partial sun, or if they should be kept strictly indoors. I mostly learn these things by having my plants die in the conditions they are not supposed to be in.

I have since learned to read those handy tags, that the real gardeners stick into the dirt of the black plastic pots you buy them in, that have all that important information on them.

I fertilize my plants with an “All Purpose” fertilizer, and I never do it on a regular basis. I do it on a more “when I feel like or remember to do it” basis.

What I do know about gardening is that it can bring you some really pretty flowers.

So, when I was out yesterday picking the weeds out of the rocks that help to landscape my front yard, I stopped and stared for a minute before picking this weed.

Why would a “weed”, the bane of a gardener’s existence, grow such a pretty and cute little flower?

How could a gardener, a lover of floral beauty, pluck such a precious yellow sunbeam from the earth?

And it was so tiny! The flower no bigger than the tip of my finger. It was so cute and petite.

But, as many gardeners and non-gardeners alike will tell you, weeds are treacherous hellions!

They try to disguise themselves as precious and helpless look-a-likes, with beautiful flowers, so that they DON’T get plucked. Then they invade all of your land, overtaking your garden, your lawn, or whatever it is you’re trying to grow. Or not grow, in a rock landscaped front yard, for instance.

Needless to say; this cute, little, precious, beautiful little weed had to go.

I felt bad as I yanked it from the roadside, up from the earth. But I knew I had to do it for the sake of not only my sidewalk, where it had sprung up from in between the gaps and the road, but I had to do it for my garden, just 20 feet from where it was surely going to try and deposit it’s seeds when the wind blew in just the right direction. I had to protect my rocks, to keep them neat and free of growing anything. I had to protect my pride!

The weed went into the garbage, with all the other weeds and debris I plucked from the land.

Sorry little weed.

Read more at WhyMommaWhy.

Thanks for reading!

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