This weekend, I finally got around to digging up my gladiola bulbs. They’ve been done blooming for a while now, but per the directions I found online, I waited until the leaves started turning yellow.

So while Brian was sick and Jameson napping, I went outside and used some muscle. Just kidding, it was kind of wet out so it was really easy.

Okay guys, these bulbs are GROSS. Is this normal? They are covered in what looks like little white mushrooms! Perhaps I waited too long and they began to rot. This is disgusting.

I have mutant bulbs in there too because apparently I planted some too close together and they’ve become siamese bulbs. Ewwww

How could something so pretty be so revolting underneath? (I know that has to be a metaphor for something)

Ugh. Just ugh.

I have a (I think) funny story. Thank goodness something funny happened this week, because I totally ran out of material. These people with children who are walking and talking seem to have a constant comedy show. My comedy show is in my own head. Trust me, no one else would find it funny.

[Example: Brian and I went on a walk yesterday and we always pass a stunted, no, totally f-ed up bush looking maple tree; Brian calls it the “Hilary tree” because he likes to make fun of me in completely immature middle school style. Cue me, laughing every.single.time. like its a brand new joke and stumbling over my own feet like a drunkard. End story.]

What I’m trying to say is that Jameson doesn’t do too much yet. His little farty noises are only funny to me. But today I have a relatively funny story, so here it goes (if you made it this far).

Remember my fiasco planting bulbs a little over a month ago? Well, things are going pretty good. I’ve had a few bulbs not come up, and a few don’t like the locations I put them in very well. Oh, and a couple plants that we didn’t help after I planted them in mulch, well, they didn’t stay planted very well. But all and all, not too shabby. A few things are sprouted, like the dahlias:

And some are even about to bloom! A few of the gladiolas.

And the hibiscus, solidly expanded in its second year, has plenty getting ready to bloom in a red glory.

To tell you the truth, I am a little surprised that I have anything blooming at all (aside from the hibiscus which was already there); I thought I had planted the bulbs far too late to really get anything blooming.

Then… there’s this thing. Sprouted between my three lily plants.

It’s steadily getting bigger. At first I thought it was a weed, because it grew so fast! One day it was there, already some 8 inches tall! But, I do tend to like some weeds, so I left it alone. Plus I wondered if maybe it had hitched a ride from the Netherlands in the bulb bags and maybe it was some sort of exotic weed…

It’s been a few weeks, and it didn’t seem to do much except get a bit bigger. And it started looking remarkably like a squash plant. Zucchini squash, Brian and I concluded.

A few days later, picture Brian and I walking back to the house with Jameson. I noticed a tiny little yellow flower. And suddenly I wonder aloud, where in the world a zucchini seed would possibly have come from?

We are three houses along our road, and none of us have gardens. All together, we have a few tomato plants, pepper plants, herbs and Brian and I have a random brussell sprout plant which I don’t expect to yield.

Then it came to me.

Embarrassingly, Brian and I left our pumpkins out to freeze and then literally melt in that very spot. From October to February, they sat. If you’re counting, that’s almost 5 months of pumpkins rotting in the very front of our house.

P.S. I hear that pumpkin plants take a ton of water, and they take over gardens. We’ll leave it for now for fun to see what it does, but I’m not opposed to taking it down if it starts strangling those lovely gladiolas. Oh, and please don’t hassle me over the phone photos. I was in a hurry!

I’ve been having some meaningful thoughts recently, which I would like to write about soon. About my revelation about choices, and about the importance of being present. However, today, I am lacking good words. Instead, I will leave you with this.

Last Sunday the message was about the weeds among the wheat at church. I don’t often touch on religion, but bear with me.

The weeds and wheat parable refers to the end of days, and what I got out of it is that we should not be passing judgement on other people, that is for God to do, because how are we to tell which are the weeds and which are the wheat? And I know there are probably lots of other messages in there but I don’t pretend to have a good handle on theology.

I had been eying the empty lots across the street from our house for a while. And I had a thought. Because from this relative unattractiveness:

Are these lovelies.

But then, these are one of my favorite flowers. I have always considered them flowers and not weeds. When I was growing up I called them Queenyun’s Lace (all slurred together, and yes, I really thought that was what it was called forever)

And now I’m sure I’ve taken the parable way out of context or relevance. But hopefully provoked some thought, or some enjoyment of pretty pictures (take a moment to zoom in on a couple… I processed them specifically to bring out their lovely petals. Enjoy). Happy Friday everyone!