Letters from the Edge

Dear Mother Nature:

Thank you so much for the recent delivery of pine needles and little orange things all over my newly planted garden. You know how I've always enjoyed your surprise deliveries (the 20 foot tree top you introduced to the hood of my car last December notwithstanding....and really, I don't hold a grudge). You were probably right--the freshly turned earth WAS a bit dull looking, and the layers of orange bits perked it right up. Problem is, now I can't find my new plants. Can you help?

Warmly,
Ms. K

Dear Mother Nature:

Well...no. I never really did think about how illogical it is to pull out a bunch of plants that you lovingly created in order to put new ones in. I guess it sort of does sound as though I think I know better than you do. I don't think that, though. And I didn't mean to "brutally tear them from the ground", either. I just really like some of the other wonderful things you've done and wanted a chance to enjoy those, too. So anyway, have you seen them? My purple thingies? Oh, and could you maybe send a few of the dandelions somewhere else? I'd really appreciate it.

Love
Ms. K

Dear Mother Nature:

No, I had no idea how long it took you to make all those dandelions. That long? No, I didn't know they all had names, either. Yes, Donovan probably was a very sweet dandelion and yes, I am ashamed for foreshortening his fuzzy yellow life. Of course, I apologize. But did you notice how lovely the coral bells are? And the hostas? You made those, too...right? I've even been talking nicely to them (we can just pretend the whole "what the hell else do you WANT, damnit?" conversation with the puny lilacs never happened, can't we?). Now...have you seen the little purple flower thingies I planted anywhere at all?

love
Ms. K

Dear Mother Nature:

No, no....I certainly don't think of myself as weedist. And no, I didn't know that the blackberries and ivy prefer to be called "determined" and "boundary challenged", as opposed to "miserable little bastards taking over my yard." I'll work on that. And yes, I know the little wild violets that got snagged in the mower were purple flowers, too. I didn't see them in time. And no, my eyes don't need to be checked. I'll definitely watch for them next time and mow a neat little circle around them..or as neat as I can get with a riding mower that corners like a boxcar full of gumballs. Meanwhile...about those other purple flowers....?

Ms. K

Dear Ma N:

Okay, look. Enough with the "poor dandelions" thing. There was absolutely no need to turn my lovely purple flowers into a pile of mush-covered brown, crispy thing. Frankly, I find it a bit petty of you. Oh, and can you please stop with the little dandelion reinforcements into my freshly weeded garden? I get it--you already had a good idea for what to grow where. But show some mercy. I'm starting to fear that if the damned things get any more determined, they'll strangle me in my bed.

Ms. K

M.N.--

That's it--it's not funny anymore. Every single time I pull up a dandelion (gently, reverently, and giving it a proper composting, mind you--and yes, I'm sorry about Doris), you make 10 more of the little buggers! I'm thrilled that you like yellow so much. I do not like yellow. I like purple. And I like red. I don't suppose you could make red dandelions?

F.K.

M.N.--

No, I don't think I'm some kind of comedian. Yes, I know that repainting all the dandelions red would be a huge task. No, I don't expect you to change all the dandelions all over the world just for me. But you know, if they quit turning up in my garden, I'll quit whining about it, how about that? I mean, wouldn't that be a win-win?

F.K.

M. N.--

No, I had no idea how many other, better negotiatiors have tried this before me. Yes, I'm sorry for insulting your intelligence. Yes, I'll try to do better. What if I set aside one whole bed for nothing but dandelions? Could we maybe agree to each be in charge of one of the beds in my yard? You know, I won't bother yours and you won't bother mine?

F.K.

M.N.--

Thistles? Now it's THISTLES?? Are you out of your tree-shaking, flower-killing, weed hustling litle mind?

You are SO not funny......

F. K.

p.s. Turning the lawn into a 80-20 moss to grass ratio wasn't that much of a chuckle, either. Bitch.