A Thousand Pardons

Of course, I talk to my plants.  Mostly, I apologize. That's why I work on my knees.

When I dug up these daffodil bulbs last evening, I found the former owners had left a treasure trove of goodies.  "Look at all you beauties," I gushed.  "I had no idea there were so many of you here."

They snorted, "Well, we sent up plenty of leaves and NO flowers these last FOUR years!  Any fool could have seen--"

I mumbled something about too dry or too wet fall weather.  I said I was sorry. "I thought you'd be puny bulbs," I admitted.

SIZEIST!

Several hydrangea bushes were languishing leggily down by one of the outbuildings.  It was too shady for them down there, so I brought them to a choice location on the west side of the house.  There, they would get morning and afternoon shade.  They, at least, had the good grace to not scold their rescuer.

"You'll be so much happier here," I reassured them.  "Also, everyone can see your beautiful blooms in springtime here in your new home."

As I was watering them in with jugs of rainwater, the nearby hibiscus piped up.  WHAT ABOUT US?  WE'VE BEEN OUT HERE IN THE HOT SUN ALL SUMMER.

I understand this has been a shameful year for the hibiscus, but they never have been appreciative of all I've done for them.  I raised these Southern Belles from seed.  When I transplanted them from their too-shady original location I said I was sorry for choosing that spot.  Watering these wetlands shrubs all summer, I felt bad that these once proud beauties were so miserable.  Usually four feet tall and filled with jumbo flowers, they were reduced to these scrawny two foot tall specimens.  Not a word of thanks for their new location in full sun next to the downspout extension, nor the fortuitous water meter leak that gushed over them for several days in early spring.

They have started to recover from the drought.  They are experiencing great re-leaf.  They got this lovely grass mulch just as soon as some grew long enough to mow.  And yes, I watered them some more.