Wednesday, June 02, 2010
Until last week, if you asked me if I like peonies, I would have said, "NO! I hate them." You would then ask me "but why? They are so pretty." To which I say, "a.n.t.s." Years ago, at the old house, we had an ant infestation in our garage header beam that led to your house having to be jacked up and the beam replaced. Why in the world would I allow a plant in my garden that needs ants to bloom? Yes, I am taking my hatred for ants out on a helpless flower. I felt justified. When we moved to this house, I told Ron to mow the ones in the yard over with the lawn mower all season. This spring, much to my grumbling, Ron has let them flourish. There are dozens of bloom so heavy the bush is weeping with white. I snipped a few, shook the bejesus out of them to insure no ants make their way in the house, and I think... I think they might be growing on me. My apologies to the peonies. It was the ants that made me hate you. I will tell Ron not to run you over next year.
ps... isn't my boy looking like such a handsome young man?