However, I am also a "can-be-done" type of person. (That could so be a crude joke.) Give me a sledge-hammer and I will tear down anything, including all the support beams that keep the ceiling from caving in. Oops. I am completely lacking in mechanical know-how. But, I am going to do what I want to do, even if it means charging hell with a water gun. And I want my house to look landscaped!
So all of this equals me in the front yard of a house that I don't even own, raking three bags of pine straw, digging up a tree, three stumps, two bushes, killing a snake (ok, it might have been a worm. But I still screamed.) and putting four azaleas in its place. All while keeping Dmitri entertained and without a shovel.
As I was planting, I became slightly paranoid that someone might stop by and ask me what in the "H" I am doing. Why anyone would ask a young lady with a baby why she was planting azaleas on a beautiful day is beside me, but nonetheless the nagging nervousness persisted. Would I say that you have to plant azaleas in the winter and it would be too late in April when we moved? Or perhaps that I am apart of the guerilla gardening social movement?
I was in the process of re-homing azalea number 3 (who I named Daphne) when my mom called. I told her that indeed, hell had frozen over and I was in the yard planting Azaleas. She asked if I were planting dwarf azaleas? I look on the tag and, "OH MY GOSH, these are supposed to be 6-8 feet tall AND wide." I'm staring at my pretty little bushes, spaced about two feet apart, realizing that this just was not meant to be. But then, "can-be-done, can-be-done" is shouted in my mind, not surprisingly by a man that resembles Don Draper.
Two and a half hours later, all four of them are nicely in a row, like sweet trail maids in antebellum dresses, smiling at me. Also like trail maids, spaced decently apart so their skirts don't crumple. This seems even more appropriate since the breed of azalea that I bought is entitled, "Pride of Mobile." They are just like the ones I grew up with as a child, surrounding our entire southern home outside of Mobile. Perhaps next, I will try to grow Spanish moss in the pine trees...
Here is documentation of the ordeal, in case my family does not believe me.
Don't they look kind of straggly and lonely? Pretty hard to picture them being 8 feet. There is still a lot more to do... But, this was a big deal for me. I cannot wait to see them bloom and grow! I feel a warm tickle-y feeling, as if they were my offspring, created by my own hand. So don't make fun of them. ; )
Do you enjoy gardening, have a favorite plant, or a vegetable garden? Or, like me, are you terrified of BUGS and the evil gardening witch that will eat you if you play in the dirt?