In my family I have a reputation. I'm not proud of it, but there it is. I can't grow anything. Alright, I exaggerate a little, those weeds that grow in-between sidewalk cracks, those I can grow. Actually weeds in general do seem to like me. The only thing I can keep alive on purpose so far, seems to be roses. My yard has a lot of roses, and weeds, and dead aspen trees. Usually I look around at my little 1/4 of an acre, shrug my shoulders and say "at least the weeds are green". Occasionally I will get a little fire under me to change my proclivities. This weekend I am trying to do just that.
My kids and I spent all day yesterday doing some serious landscaping, including emptying and moving those big whiskey barrels, taking down ornamental fencing, building planters and planting flowers. We planted yellow day lillies, mums left over from Memorial day, and some purple flower that while we were at Home Depot attracted the biggest prettiest butterfly I had ever seen. I don't know exactly what kind it is but it's a perennial and my daughter just had to have it, hoping it would attract some more of her favorite insect to our back yard. The day left us tired, sore and sunburned but we are all very pleased with the results so far. I worry, however, that I may be about to overextend myself. I plan to return to the hardware store today and purchase tomatoes and herbs to go into the planters I made yesterday out of the fencing we took down.
Keep your fingers crossed for me...
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