Weeds

I have a little book entitled, Simple Pleasures - Soothing Suggestions & Small Comforts for Living Well Year Round, written by a trio of authors, Robert Taylor, Susannah Seton, and David Greer.  It's a compilation of quotes gathered from their various friends and acquaintances.

 

In this book, I recently came across a piece (written by an anonymous author) that made me realize there are others who feel the same as I do about weeding.

 

For Love of Weeds

I have a confession to make that I hope my father

never hears -- I love weeding.  During the

summers when I was small, my father 

used to pay me fifty cents an hour to 

pull weeds from our extensive gardens.

I suppose, looking back on my wage scale,

it was a great deal for him,

but it was even better for me.

It was such a feeling of accomplishment

to finish a square area and look down at all that

sweet-smelling moist dirt and

not see a single little invader.

Exactly!  Remember the picture I recently posted of a portion of our blueberry patch that had been sadly neglected?

Same patch after I spent some quality time in it happily pulling and digging out the rasty weeds.

And nobody even had to pay me to do it.