It's not easy being green.

I was sure there would be comments from the last post. You are all obviously out enjoying the summer. If you live on the east coast that means drowning. If you live on the west, frying to a crisp. In the spring I was thrashing around in my yard almost every day. I am determined to have a garden that looks like a grownup planted it. You know, for someone who imagines herself having some kind of artistic talent, garden design is not my forte. I really love that casual English garden style where it looks like a bunch of foxglove, daisies and roses just wandered in. My attempt at casual elegance however, looks like a school’s flower bed. Ah, that must be the area they let the kindergartners plant.
To make matters worse, the weeds have crept in and gotten away from me. They didn’t have far to go. The lawn is mostly weeds. I will not take the blame for this. The yard was a big mess when we moved in 6 years ago. All Alain and I have been willing to do is mow the suckers down occasionally. When we first moved in my neighbor across the street tried to be helpful. She said, “You know, if you were thinking of spraying some weed killer down, now is the time of year to do it.” I told her, “If it’s green it stays.” Hey, you’ve got to admit that huge patch of clover looks pretty darn good during a drought. I don’t know for sure but I think all those weeds have something to do with the annual crop of really weird mushrooms that sprout up all over the yard. One of my neighbors practices his golf swing on his. Me, I get out the mushroom guide books to see which ones I can eat. I am strange in many ways. Wouldn’t you know? Not a single one edible. And what peeps out from under a pine tree just three feet over the property line of my neighbor’s yard but a tiny patch of chanterelles. It ain’t fair.
Now, even I, the earthy-crunchy, tree hugging environmentalist, have contemplated the purchase of Round Up. But no, I can’t do it. Lest I offend you Monsanto types I would just like to point out that it would take poisoning all of nearby Lake Ontario to kill all the weeds in this yard. I have to remind myself of what I tell other people as they gaze at all the many leafy green things that have completely outcompeted the grass. What some people call weeds, I call biodiversity.
I did cheat though. When we were away in France my neighbor sent her lawn service guy over to mow our lawn. Yes, Ann is a saint in many ways. One of the best things you can ever do is make friends with a neighbor who is a neat freak. One day she came over with her power washer and cleaned my deck. The workmen renovating my kitchen are still talking about it; they never saw anyone do that kind of thing voluntarily, just to be nice.
The lawn looked nice. Damned nice. Alain was away this week at a conference enjoying balmy, sweltering Vancouver. Did you know the public beaches there are clothing optional? Did you know Alain hates the lawn services because of all the noise they make on the weekends? I cheated. I had Ann call the guy back. Don’t tell.

Are you busy or guilty?

Someone I knew a long time ago sent me a friend request on facebook. I sent a reply and he answered three months later, apologizing for the delay and stating that he had been busy until now. At first I dismissed the comment because one hears it all the time. Then I got to thinking. What makes that guy so damned busy he can't answer an email? Last I checked he wasn't running the Fed or the free world.

Then I began thinking about how infrequently I apologize for being too busy to do something. I apologize for things I haven't done all the time. I apologize constantly for the state of my house whenever anyone comes in. I am always doing things at the last minute (I should be cleaning the house right now) but it never occurred to me to apologize because I was too busy. What is the difference between someone who assumes the world will understand that too much has been placed on their shoulders to accomplish even the most mundane of tasks such as answering an email versus the person who beats themselves up regularly for not being organized enough?

So I tried it. I just said it. My apology for not doing something (which I don't recall now) was simply to say I had been too busy. To my amazement the person to whom I said this just accepted it. There was no look of condescension at my incompetence. In fact the look was one of pity that I could be so busy.

Toss my cell phone/calendar/email/organizer in the trash, I am free at last.

Dr. Bif