Friday, September 5, 2014

WAR AND PEACE IN MY "VICTORY"? GARDEN

Here she is, early in the season, before she became a jungle. Looks pretty peaceful, no?

MY ORTO IS LETTING ME KNOW IN NO UNCERTAIN TERMS THAT SHE IS NOT PLEASED WITH ME. AND SHE IS QUITE RIGHT. THE POOL MAN LIKES TO SAY THAT A SWIMMING POOL IS LIKE A BABY. SHE REQUIRES CONSTANT SURVEILLANCE. WELL DITTO FOR A VEGETABLE GARDEN.

Every time I have abandoned her, she has gotten back at me. Ordinarily a very devoted, even compulsive gardener with zero tolerance for weeds, I am full of rationalizations for my neglect. First it was a period of bad weather. Next a trip to visit family. Then trying to care for a husband with a pinched nerve.

But she is not interested in excuses. This is existentialism in action. Good intentions mean nothing. It's only what you do that counts. Today I am trying to make it up to her. We'll see how well that works.


INSECT CONTROL:LATEST ENEMY ON THE HIT LIST
I'm beginning to understand why they call them soldier bugs. I've spent much of the day killing legions of them, but just when I have the illusion that I am making a dent in their ranks, entire new phalanxes appear. When one considers the life cycle, I guess we each have our moment to feel strong and invincible.This is theirs.


The local dialect even has an expression for that: "E suo tempo." This is not the first time I have heard this philosophical comment whose implication is, "Well, what do you expect? Isn't it September in the garden?" I wrote on this a bit in June of 2011

Once, when I asked the local garden store owner why my kitchen was suddenly invaded by armies of flying ants, he didn't hesitate to say, "E suo tempo." I wrote about that in an earlier post, ON BEING A PRINCIPESSA (OR IMAGINING THAT YOU ARE)...  Everyone, even the insects decimating my beans, deserves his moment in the sun. Although I see that any sense of permanent victory is illusory, I'm still hoping that my efforts will result in less war and a little more peace in my garden. 

(I was thinking of including some photos of the various stages of these soldier bug guys, but then I remembered that my 90-year-young mom said "basta with those insect pictures!" OK, mom. This is part of my birthday present to you. Here come a few more pre-jungle garden shots, instead.) 






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