The Grass is Greener on This Side

One of my favourite things about this time of year is getting my hands dirty in the garden. Though many of the bulbs I planted in the fall were eaten by the squirrels, the perennials have all fared really well (all but one even survived the moat digging that happened in the backyard—the labourers gently removed them before they dug and tenderly replanted them when they were finished!)

I went out to get groceries last week when I noticed the garden centre open. I decided to pop in “just to have a look”, but the selection was fabulous and, knowing the forecast for the coming week was good, I decided to live dangerously and purchase all of my annuals before May 2-4 weekend (for the Americans, our long weekend in May is called May 2-4 after the many cases of 24 beers that are enthusiastically drunk by hosers celebrating the start of summer. The non-drinkers work in their gardens. I manage to do both). It worked out perfectly—I was able to do my plant shopping before the crowds and I had everything planted just in time before the landscapers came back to replace the grass that was ruined by the moat. So, unless the temperatures plunge, the yard will be lookin’ real purdy for Cakes’ second birthday party this weekend.

Our front yard is looking good too. The next-door neighbour and I are fastidious about our grass. We’re ridiculous—you’d think we were a couple of retired suburbanites. Anyway, my chest puffed with pride when the landscapers commented that our front yard was the best one of the street.

So here I am, before May 24, and the work is done. Now I just putter around and chit-chat in the front, and put my feet up with a good book in the back.



Oh, how I love you, Spring.