Like many of you, I spent Memorial Day weekend outside. In western Pennsylvania, we were blessed with three days of gorgeous weather, after a winter that refused to let go for months. My husband and I are the owners of a lovely old farmhouse that has been in our family since 1940. Six acres guarantee me multiple gardening spots and a peaceful retirement for our two geriatric horses.
Life in the country presents challenges. Snakes under the rhubarb leaves, flying squirrels in the attic, raccoons in the tack room, groundhogs in the garden, and a variety of noxious weeds that grow stronger and healthier than anything I have ever planted and cherished.
Even though we have a small farm, our next door neighbors are still within “shouting distance” and conversations can often be overheard if I am working in the front yard. A young couple recently moved in and they often have weekend gatherings with their friends. Yesterday, a group of them made their way down the driveway with a bag of soil, a shovel, and some flowers. I could barely keep from laughing out loud when I heard the following conversation:
Wife: Let’s plant flowers in this stump.
Visitor: There’s Poison Ivy on it!
Wife: Well, that shows what kind of homeowners we are! I didn’t even know what Poison Ivy looked like!
Visitor: Quick, throw some dirt on it!
I looked up in horror to see the husband dump half the contents of a bag of Miracle Grow Potting Mix on the Poison Ivy vine. I can guarantee we haven’t seen the last of it!