rolling over in her grave!
After church today, I gave a ride to a new member who lives in my neighborhood. As it turns out, she lives in a house that we looked at back when we were house-hunting three years ago, and it sounds like she bought it not too long after we saw it.
This house used to belong to the elderly woman who wrote the weekly garden column for the local newspaper, and as you can imagine, the garden was FANTASTIC. It made me very sad that the house didn't have enough room for our family; I was so tempted to buy it just for the garden.
I mentioned this to her, and she said, "Oh, I hate gardening. I can't keep up with all the weeding. I just have the mowing guys mow all the plants down."
I... I can hardly even type those words! She might as well have said, "Oh, I sacrifice kittens by the dark of the moon." All the history, all the hours that woman spent dreaming and planning and digging and sweating over those plants, and she's dead now and the plants are mown down. Such is life, I suppose.
"You're breaking my heart!" I told her, trying to sound like I was at least a *little* bit joking about that. Then I suggested that come spring, I come over to her place to see what's sprouting and dig up some of the surviving flowers, so she can replace them with more lawn. Sounded like a good plan to her. (Lawn! LAWN!)
As I know I've mentioned, my house, too, used to belong to local gardening luminaries -- a couple who owned a small nursery and chaired the local orchid club. They passed away and their house, too, fell prey to a non-gardener who mowed everything down (for five years!). I've slowly been working on resuscitating the surviving plants and nursing them back to health. It seems like an odd coincidence that another piece of local gardening history has now fallen to me.
This entry was originally posted at http://loligo.dreamwidth.org/390235.html.
comments on that entry. Please comment there using OpenID.
This house used to belong to the elderly woman who wrote the weekly garden column for the local newspaper, and as you can imagine, the garden was FANTASTIC. It made me very sad that the house didn't have enough room for our family; I was so tempted to buy it just for the garden.
I mentioned this to her, and she said, "Oh, I hate gardening. I can't keep up with all the weeding. I just have the mowing guys mow all the plants down."
I... I can hardly even type those words! She might as well have said, "Oh, I sacrifice kittens by the dark of the moon." All the history, all the hours that woman spent dreaming and planning and digging and sweating over those plants, and she's dead now and the plants are mown down. Such is life, I suppose.
"You're breaking my heart!" I told her, trying to sound like I was at least a *little* bit joking about that. Then I suggested that come spring, I come over to her place to see what's sprouting and dig up some of the surviving flowers, so she can replace them with more lawn. Sounded like a good plan to her. (Lawn! LAWN!)
As I know I've mentioned, my house, too, used to belong to local gardening luminaries -- a couple who owned a small nursery and chaired the local orchid club. They passed away and their house, too, fell prey to a non-gardener who mowed everything down (for five years!). I've slowly been working on resuscitating the surviving plants and nursing them back to health. It seems like an odd coincidence that another piece of local gardening history has now fallen to me.
This entry was originally posted at http://loligo.dreamwidth.org/390235.html.
comments on that entry. Please comment there using OpenID.