Growing pains

I didn't want to blog about the minutae of my life, just about the writing part of it, but seems like I'm yielding to the temptation today...

Anyway, here goes. My mother is back from a month long vacation in NY. Which left me in charge of her house (not a problem - I just ignore the housework until it can't be ignored any longer, and then proceed to ignore it some more) and in charge of her garden.

There's the rub. This little valley on this little island must have the richest soil on the planet. Things just leap out of the ground, practically growing before your eyes. My mother left the yard immaculate, and a week after she was gone it was obvious that the jungle was already beginning to encroach. Vines were coming over the fence on three sides. All manner of alien green life forms were sprouting with reckless zeal in the herb beds and borders, the grow box, and even in planters and pots. The grass appeared to be on steroids, especially since the rains had begun in earnest. The wind blew down two plantain trees and I found myself wrestling bag after bag of plantains into the freezer. The ferns around the water tank were getting so huge that they threatened to engulf it entirely, and were beginning to look at me in a distinctly malevolent fashion.

I exterminated the ferns, did a bit of dilatory weeding here and there, and watered stuff on dry days when I remembered.

Last weekend it dawned on me that the lady would be back in two days, and I took a good look around. Panic. I had not fertilized her row of cabbages once. The grass was so high an entire commune of giant anacondas, not to mention their smaller and more lethal cronies, could have taken up residence there and I would have been none the wiser.

Summoned the lawn guy. Did some tidying in earnest. When my mom arrived she immediately began walking around the yard, muttering something about wanting to see if anything had survived. Survived? Lady, how about asking how I managed to survive your damned aggressive garden?