Well, the idea was that the new, slow-growing grass that they planted (and had to REplant after all the ants carried the seeds to THEIR house) would overtake all the weeds and the not-so-good grass. I was plenty skeptical, but waited a while before stepping in to try to help that fantasy along. One of my lifelong aspirations has been not to have to weed our ever-deteriorating US driveway, and here I am on our Italian terrazza in the same boat. Oh, well...
Actually, I recognize a certain symmetry, here. At the beginning of my 3 months at the house, J caught me on camera while I was fiddling around with the plants along the low stone wall that flanks our entry driveway. So what's so relaxing about weeding? Well, it seems to be my way of settling in and reconnecting. I know that when I get back to the States, one of the first things I will do is to start puttering around with the plants, both indoors and out. And yes, I'll probably resume weeding what can only loosely be termed our driveway.
Voltaire tells us that we must cultivate our garden. I've spent a lifetime pondering that one. I'm wondering if that includes weeding the driveway. I think i've been figuring out how to cultivate my garden whether in France, Italy or America.
Going back to my French roots, I'm thinking of Camus' declaration that we must imagine Sisyphus happy. What's the link between Sisyphus' eternally rolling a rock up a mountain until it comes rolling back down? Can I ever really make a dent in the number of weeds in my path? That seem to proliferate overnight? As annoying as they are, I have to admire their robustness and tenacity. Somehow, they keep both of us going. And as I was reminded by this surprise photo, when weeding, I always have a smile on my face.
August 18, 2010