Tuesday, November 19, 2019


I had this friend, Fern. We liked to hang out in the shade together, as we both get a bit wilted and burnt in the afternoon sun. I tried to support Fern's notion of the more being merrier, but she did not respect my vision of everything having its place. She worked fiercely in her secret underground to build a network of roots to support her random offspring. I was lured in several times by those adorable little wound up curls, just waiting to fling themselves open with the same misguided enthusiasm as a party blower.

This year I tried harder to keep the invasion at bay. By that, I mean that I ripped out many a wandering juvenile threatening to dwarf or strangle my other perennial friends. They got the hint...or so I thought
Really, Fern? I can't even say I was mad though to be honest. I admired her strength. She hit a wall, for the most part, and persevered. It was unnecessary for her to invite friends...
...but who was I to judge such tenacity? My trips to and from the car started to alternate between varying levels of fascination, annoyance and concern for the security of our driveway.

I don't know if the people my husband hired to seal out driveway sat in a circle around Fern, having their own "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" moment; or whether she was plucked from her spot and flung aside without even a second thought.


  1. I think tenacity wins. We have the best grass of all growing up through driveway cracks and the sidewalk. The grass is always greener on the other side, I guess.

  2. LOVE this,and it did make me smile. Had lots of Fern in the garden, and they apparently loved being there. They kept inviting their friends, like you I did some serious digging; but that wasn't enough. The following year I decided even a few were too many; as they do indeed take over everything else. So, I dug and dug again...convinced I had it all taken care of. The following Spring proved I had done a good job, but........no the year after, they were back. It's a process. The one in the drive, reminds me of the lone multi-colored tulip I had one year in the middle of the yard. Who planted it.....not me. It was yellow on one side and red on the other. I did have red tulips in one fence row, and yellow in the other fencerow. Nature is weird. I assume a busy squirrel dug up the bulbs, as they often due thinking their nuts I guess........got some of each buried them together? What other explanation could there be? Spotted you on a mutual blog friends blog and thought I'd pop in to say hi. Always fun finding new blog friends.

    Traveling Suitcase

  3. Yep. You don't want 'em, they grow. You baby, and coax, and try to get them to grow... Pbbbt. Oh, well.
    Guess it's a lesson in strength... ?