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Picking on Weeds

I am beginning to realize that weeding is a lot like cleaning one’s house. It’s really only noticed when it isn’t done.


No one visiting my garden ever says, “Gee, Carla, nice job with the weeding,” just like they never say, “Nice vacuuming job.” But boy, if there are a few weeds in the hostas or dust on the tables, I am certain they are thinking, “doesn’t she ever take care of her garden/house?” I don’t think any of my friends would ever tell me they think I am slacking off if they see a weed or two. But I wonder if deep down inside they are thinking that.



Or am I being too sensitive about my garden chores? I really don’t think ill of friends who have a few extra weeds in their gardens. I know everyone has busy lives and that sometimes a weed will sneak by the most fastidious of gardeners. It is in the nature of weeds, after all, to survive all sorts of conditions, including the weeders. I fondly remember my patch of coreopsis that was crowned with a lovely, large yellow dandelion flower a few summers ago. Not dumb, that dandelion, to camouflage itself among other yellow flowers. In fact, who knows how many times I passed by without realizing my coreopsis had been invaded?


So I am tolerant of others’ weeds. Sometimes I can’t help myself and will reach down and pull a weed that I find to be offensive. I will often do this at a public garden because I know how short-staffed parks and gardens can be these days. However, I have also been known to pull a weed or two in the gardens of my friends. But it has to be a good friend that would know this is not a criticism but instead a helping hand. I hope I am sensitive enough to not pick weeds in the garden of a relative stranger. Little Bittercress


Truth be told, I enjoy weeding. I find it to be therapeutic because I don’t have to think about other things while I am weeding. It’s kind of an automatic response; see a weed, pull it. See another weed, pull it. And it is a good reason to go out into the garden on a nice afternoon instead of, say, dusting or vacuuming inside. I can justify time spent outside if I am doing a job like weeding.


It’s probably a good thing I am don't do garden tours here anymore. That’s when I used to get really paranoid about every little thing going wrong. Garden tours are the times when the slugs do even more damage to the hostas, the penstemon refuse to bloom on time, or the wind knocks down major branches from the Japanese maples. And no matter how often I weed, there is always one or two I miss and I only notice them as I am escorting guests through the gardens. Which brings a dilemma: do I reach down and pull the weed knowing I am calling attention to it, or do I pretend I don’t see it and hope they won’t either?


This year, we have had a lot of dog-running-through-the-plants damage, and I refuse to apologize about that. As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, it has become more important to me that the dog enjoys the yard as much as I do. And I try not to cringe when I see my lovely big Hosta ‘Francis Williams’ broken at the base by a dog’s playful romp. I try. Sometimes it’s easier to overlook than others.


Maybe I will take a lesson from Superman. As a teenager in high school, he would miss a question or two on each test so his teachers wouldn’t think he was the perfect human being that he was. That’s my story and I’m sticking with it: I’m missing those few weeds here and there on purpose so you won’t think I’m perfect!

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