Thursday, March 02, 2006

Okay, okay. I haven't seen the insides of anyone's digestive tract for several days, and I'm starting to think it may be safe to come out. The weather is nice and all, for now. We should all be out walking our collective dogs in the sunshine.

I got my Burpee catalog in the mail, which made me start thinking about what to plant, which makes it seem like spring, which makes me feel less saggy and depressed.

One of the seed collections I noticed was the sunflower forest, instantly painting pictures in my head of my happy children playing and peeking among towering, golden blooms, having tea parties on blankets spread out in the shade, marveling at how something so large could grow from a tiny seed they'd helped plant.

The more I think about it, the more I'm anticipating one or more of the following scenarios instead:
  • The dog will dig up and trample every fledgling sprout to try and teach me a lesson.

  • Any flowers that do manage to grow will attract massive numbers of bees and other insects.

  • Children will refuse to play in the yard because A) it's too hot, B) it's too dirty, C) we have satellite, you fool, and D) there are bees everywhere.

  • Sunflowers will become an albatross of guilt sitting abandoned in the middle of the yard until Gary makes an executive decision to mow over them and set up a wading pool for the kids instead.

But I'm still going to do it. I figure there might be an 8% chance I'll get a small glimmer of enjoyment from each one of the kids at some point during the growing season, and that's why I ever do anything crazy. I'm optimistic like that.


Gary said...

I already have plans for it.

Sachi said...

Being extremely anal at anything I do, I started sunflowers in small pots and put them where the critters couldn't get to them. When they appeared to be large enough, I planted them.

Lost 4 to the cats finding away to get to them in pots.

Lost 2 to the neighborhood terrorist squirrel that insist on burring his stash in my pots.

5 made it to the ground and flopped over upon reaching bloom size.

2 stood proud. Not enough for the kids to run around and play "forest" in.

I tossed my Burpee catalog in the trash this year. I wish you luck.

-jane said...

forget the kids! leave them to the tv and play in it yourself! blanket, book & cold iced tea.