Not everyone loves gardening. I have a friend, let’s call him Warren, who hates taking care of his landscaping. Warren’s front yard stands out on the street he lives on for total lack of care. And yet, I like and understand him.
Take my own relationship with cars. I change oil regularly on my old Chevrolet mini-van but when something goes wrong, my stress levels shoot straight up. I hate cars and mechanics pick up on it. Then they lie to me and take my money. So I understand Warren.
Comedy
It’s almost comical when I pull up on Warren’s street. His neighbour employs me to take care of his lawns and, sometimes, his beds. Just before the Victoria Day long weekend Warren’s neighbour had me perform upgrades in his landscape because he had visitors coming to stay with him. When he was out on the street he gave Warren’s front yard a long look. That said it all.
When I feel down, I look at Warren’s front yard.
The lawn is so long, the grass gets to reproduce sexually; and it’s full of weeds and moss. It also suffered European chafer beetle damage. Of course it did. The chafers love weak lawns.
The roses, daylilies and Hydrangeas flower nicely but the rocks look like the scene of an accident.
His own beat
I love the way my friend marches to his own beat and I always thought that it deserved its own blog post. His neighbours don’t send angry letters to city hall because Warren pays me to cut the wilderness when things get desperate; usually when his family and tenants have problems entering the house or his son goes missing in the grass.
