I’m not much of a gardener. All the flowers outside are wild and came with the house. Anything I’ve tried to plant, the dogger digs up, thinking it’s a game. I stopped weeding my rose bush a few weeks ago when it stopped blooming. If you look to the left, you will see that the dog took up my slack. Mmmmm, grass.
I asked my sister to come over to help re-pot my in-door plants (yes, I have that many). We looked over the rose bush, which was very yellow-ish-brown from either too much rain or too much watering help from the dog-boy.
Anyway, I pointed out the only green leaves in the bunch were weeds, and I didn’t have the heart to pull them. My siter looked at me and asked, Do you know the definition of a weed?
I paused, expecting a trap. Here’s what she said. A weed is anything you don’t want in your garden. That’s brilliant!
So I left them. The weeds are now as tall as me. Last week, when I looked at them, I found out that they were my wild daisies. They came back for two years in a row. This year will be year three.
I didn’t recognize them because their were so many this year. Just look at them. Aren’t they gorgeous?