A week ago, I purchased a blooming cornflower plant from a roadside orchard. Not wanting to damage my car’s leather seats (and my car’s trunk was already filled with my New York State Fair artwork and pickups), I placed the plant in a cardboard peach box.
Yep, the plant rode shotgun in a peach box. Thus earning the plant’s nickname, “Peaches.”
I dropped the plant off at my girlfriend Nicole’s house, and she was overjoyed – the cornflower plant would look amazing in her back garden.
So the plan was for me to help her garden over the weekend – and by “garden,” it meant digging a hole to plant the cornflower plant, as well as removing some legacy bushes along her walkway so that she could plant some blooming autumn mums.
Okay. I can handle this. I’ve pulled out bushes and overgrowth before. (flexing biceps) (yes, there’s flex in those biceps) (seriously, yes, there’s flex in those biceps)
Started the morning by digging up one of the bushes. And let me tell you … bushes have long, deep, I-don’t-want-to-come-out-of-the-ground roots. But Chuck does not take “stay in the ground” for an answer. Out you come.
Okay. Now for the next one. Small little guy. Shouldn’t take too long.
I may want to re-edit that statement. The “small little guy” took an hour to extract. I had to cut out all the branches and limbs first, then dig around the bush itself, then push and pull and wiggle it like a dentist pulling a molar. Heave. Ho. Heave. Ho. One our later, the little guy finally left the ground.
Okay. I can do this . One more bush and we’re done. I got this.
Back to the shovel. Dig dig dig dig. Had to get the pruners and trim out the roots as much as possible. Heck, I think this guy’s root system went all the way across the property. Best to cut the roots when I can, rather than try to dig every single root out and more divots in my girlfriend’s front lawn than one might find at Bushwood Country Club.
So after removing three bushes (and an additional one because she thought it needed to go), I still had enough adrenaline and determination to help plant Peaches. Peaches would replace a butterfly bush that, sadly, did not survive the recent winter. That plant was dead. Dead enough that it only took a couple of yanks to pull it out of the ground, roots and all.
I then dug a hole where the cornflower plant would call home. Brought some topsoil and peat moss from the shed. Nicole hosed down the hole and I stirred the wet soil and peat moss until it resembled a muddy slurry. She then pulled Peaches out of its pot, broke up the plant’s root ball, and into the ground it goes.
And let me tell you. That plant wasn’t ten minutes into the ground before the honeybees found it and had a pollenation party.
Of course, you can probably imagine what happened the next day.
I woke up and my body said OW.
Not just OW. It said OWIE OWIE OWIE OW.
And Monday was still uncomfortable for me – every time I walked, I felt like Frankenstein’s monster. My arms burned, my hips ached, my whole body hurt like anything.
But you know what? This is what you do. You bring a little beauty into a peaceful garden, and in the end, the sweat equity pays off. That cornflower plant will draw butterflies and honeybees, and it already beautifies the back garden.
And when I get the strength in my arms and back again …
I’ll help her plant those mums.
I got this. 😀
Chuck The Writer 