Finally
my minions have melted the ice rink, most of the water has run off, and
we even have some grass shoots coming up. I do apologize for the long
winter (and especially to Enzo. There is still lots of snow on Enzo
mountain due to a leaky ice machine. It was my first winter at the
Bridge and I learned a late season hockey tournament was a bad idea. I
am going to make up for it with lots of heat lamps to help my garden
grow here. Lots and lots of heat lamps
Not
only do I have to worry about the gardens I am planting up here (I am
going to be doing lots of watering once I have planted my seeds so those
of you who live along coastal areas or waterways I am issuing a flash
flood warning until the beginning of June. If this had been an actual
emergency I would have appeared in your dreams and barked: “Head for
the hills!)
But
the Bridge garden is not the only one that I am concerned with. I
have to start planning my earthly gardens for the spring. I have
visited Mommy in her dreams and she is already buying flowers for my
garden to make is look beautiful.
Next
to my garden was the wheelbarrow garden. At the end of last season the
wheelbarrow, which, against my advice, was bought on the cheap at
Walgreens, predictably fell apart. Mommy has money set aside for
another cheap wheelbarrow, but in the interim Grampy passed, and Daddy
took the St Anthony statue (he is the patron saint of lost things and no
one loses more things than my forgetful parents) from his garden and
put it in the wheelbarrow garden, which I do hope is going to be named
he St Anthony garden because if you cross over the Bridge and on your
questionnaire you state that you had a St Anthony statue in your garden
but still named the garden after a cheap wheelbarrow you will be going
to hell.
Mommy
has told Daddy that they won’t be spending as much money on the gardens
this year because of the number of perennials she planted. HAH! Mommy
said the same thing about Christmas gifts for the grandchildren and his
credit card still shows bruises. My parents constant gardening
produced multiple trash bags filled with landfill, weeds and grass, so
much so that the management company is limiting the amount of trash bags
residents can put out. Although their gardens are much admired Mommy
and Daddy aren’t the most popular duo in the Village of the Pruned.
They
have already dipped into the kibble account to buy a rain barrel,
something that would not have happened if I had any need for kibble.
They collect the rain from the roof and keep it in the barrel and then
use it to water the yard where the rain would have gone anyway. I swear
the whole household has gone to hell since I departed.
But
most importantly I want my garden, Foley’s garden, to be tended to
properly. The first step is to send a message to my sisters: STOP
PEEING IN MY GARDEN. I mean it. My buds are blooming, my crocuses are
up, and while I didn’t mind when my flowers are dormant I don’t want
your water waste amongst my blooms.
Once
my sisters control their kidneys my flowers can begin to bloom and a
little bit of my soul will be alive just outside my parents window.
And they are on strict order not to let anyone pee in it.
