Evening in the yard

I sat upon the front sidewalk last evening and attacked the mat of weeds that had spread over our flowers since last I was there. We have the usual vegetative villains here that everyone has -- dandelions and crabgrass -- as well as some that may not be as familiar to you, such as a horrible creeping calamity called wiregrass.

A few minutes into my work, I was joined by a small, warty neighbor. A toad emerged from somewhere and sat upon the sidewalk observing me. I addressed him every now and then; he did not reply. Seemed content just to sit there upon his small haunches and watch. I gave him a slight sprinkle with the hose, which he appeared to enjoy.

By now,it was getting dark and the weeds no longer were strangling the flowers but lay in a defeated, wilted heap upon the grass. I got up, satisfied.

My amphibious companion bounced away into the lavender bed and I headed inside.

My kind of evening!

By the dark of night ...

Through the gloom of the evening I plodded along, pushing my wheelbarrow loaded high with black plastic bags.

I passed two neighbors out for a walk. I bid them a cheery good evening. They mumbled some response and kept going.

I can't blame them. Who pushes a wheelbarrow around the neighborhood in the middle of the night -- well, at least, late in the evening?

It was the only time I had available, to retrieve the sacks of lawn clippings and shredded leaves from my father-in-law's yard that will make fine mulch for my garden.

If I ever get a moment to pull up the weeds, that is. Might have to start doing that by moonlight as well.

Fifteen more years til I can retire.

Peachy shortcut?

Sweetie and I bought some Carolina peaches from the farmer's market the other day -- so tangy and delicious -- and I discovered that the one I had for lunch today had a split pit.

In the peach business, that is apparently a defect.

But I am curious. It looks ready to sprout. I wonder if that means I can short cut the whole "bag it in moist dirt, refrigerate three weeks and plant it in the fall" thing.

New member of the garden family

From a vendor at the Farmer's Market in Williamsburg last week, I bought a fine-smelling pot of Winter Savory, a perennial herb that is new to my ken.

Yes, I am a guy. Yes, I also love herbs. Have since I was a teenager. I firmly reject the notion, revived on certain commercials recently, that "men don't bake," or involve themselves in other, similar activities.

I bristle anytime I hear the old, sad, tired myth that "Women don't" this or "Women can't" that. A Woman can hang sheetrock, fix a car, drive a truck, hit a fastball or pursue a career in science, as well as any man.

And I also get quite annoyed when told that men can't do this or that either, without compromising their manliness. In my opinion, a man can bake chocolate chip cookies, enjoy fine fashion or shopping, style hair for a living and any of the many other things supposedly the provenance of Women, and still be very much a man.

So this here man will find a good, sunny place for this new herb, and snip off a little tonight to put into the ham and butterbean soup that I am making for dinner. And I will cuddle with my Beloved as the darkness falls and enjoy Her delightful company whilst all the belching boneheads of the world who base their manliness on old stereotypes can continue to sit alone in their drab apartments gnawing on t.v. dinners.

Guerrilla gardeners

Anyone with an engineering degree can put up a bridge that will carry traffic. Any run-of-the-mill architect can erect a building that will keep out the rain.

It is when these skills combine with beauty that humanity is truly uplifted -- when we are bequeathed a Golden Gate Bridge or a Parthenon.

Too much of our modern, so-called public space is dreary, boring, even downright ugly -- and soul-killing. And that's just the hardscape, not the often pathetic attempts to bring in some greenery.

An international movement seeks to change that in a surprising way. They call themselves guerrilla gardeners.

In essence, these folks sneak onto neglected public property by dark of night and plant things. Not cannabis but sunflowers, native plants, etc.

Now, being a gardener myself, I was skeptical at first. Anyone with functioning fingers can drop seeds on the ground and run away. To actually produce a garden requires a few return trips. Watering and weeding soon become necessary.

But I visited http://guerrillagardening.org and was happily surprised. The man who runs the website does slip back to tend his urban oasises. Even rakes leaves. And sometimes visits by day. I don't know if all his followers are so devoted. Still, more power to them.