The more I have

the more I want.

I would have thought the more flowers I planted, and the more in bloom they became, the more I would be pleased, satiated, and move on. But the farther along it gets, the more I see how far there is to go, the more it kindles within me a desire to be fully saturated. Engulfed in scent and bloom. The more it awakens a plant lust. My poor husband thinks we are nearly done (thinks I am nearly done) for the spaces in the beds will soon be filled. But now I know (understand, see), I have only begun. It is hard for me to wait. I know I must. Years must play a part. But all over the yard, places call to me, I see beds, where now stands grass. I want desparately to pick up the shovel, dig up the sod, create other beds, and go buy flowers to tuck into them. Financially I know I mustn't do it. But there aren't enough flowers, not here in my yard, and certainly not in any of the other yards I drive past. "Where are all the flowers? Why do they just have a few? Why aren't there more?" I ask Bob. He talks of time and money, and maintenance. "Oh pish, takes time to weed and landscape non-flowering plantings". But I forget, I do spend time out in the yard, I do like to dig holes, and plant things, I like to dead-head, and prune, and water. The only thing I find tedious, and don't do like I should, is weeding.

I am hoping to convince Bob that we need some roses tomorrow, for the little planting out by the driveway. He envisioned evergreens, I planted rose of sharon. I have to take small steps, if he sees clearly where I am going, he is bound to try and stop me. I don't know why he would bother though, whatever becomes mine, whatever has little flowering faces planted in it, becomes my responsibility. It is only where I have no interest that I take no care. And those areas are all left to him, and his sparten plantings, and weeds.
Anyway, that wasn't where I was going, I meant to go here- I asked the lady at the gardening center if the roses would continue to be on sale, and she said "yes, they aren't selling well this year". I was surprised, told her how well mine are doing, and how they actually seem to give me more for my effort than my other perennials. She said "Roses. Yes, good, if you don't mind the thorns". I thought she must be joking. What is there to mind? It isn't a sofa, it's a flowering plant. However could I manage to mind? The only trouble with thorns is if you deadhead on a windy day, but even then, not so bad, as to put it off till another day. They are so worth it. Thorns are no deterrent at all, not enough of a bother to earn words like tolerating, certianly no reason to go without the beauty of roses. Fill my fields with roses, thorns and all, come come come. Roses may have been hard to grow in the past, but they aren't now, really truly they aren't, I wish more people would realize that, and the drive down the road I live on, and to my son's school, would be filled with flowers. Fill me with flowers.

I'm even starting to like foliage, straight up; like painted ferns, and wormwood. Some ivy would be nice. I got so disgruntled with Bob last week for scraping some of the moss off the brick walkway. "What are you doing?!!!". I water it and try and encourage it to grow, and he takes a shovel and just scraps it off.

11:30 am, I must be off. (now even later) I can either procrastinate writing by exercising, or exercising by writing, but I can't procrastinate doing both by blogging and looking up roses on the net (which is what I have done thus far).

good day.
I am to finish writing in all the noteook stuff to the computer today. That is what must be done.