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Life and Times During Covid-19
It rained again last night here in Oakland, CA. We’ve had perfect spring rains, a nice shower every two to three days. Being homebound for the last two weeks, I took the opportunity to plant seeds… poppies, verbena, lavender, and things I no longer remember.
The bad gardener I hired stopped by a few days later and covered them up with the ugliest mulch possible. Big, hairy stalks of redwood are now scattered across my small garden. I doubt the seeds, many of which were merely supposed to be pressed lightly into the soil, will be able to struggle up through the stuff. If I could have remembered where I had pressed the seeds, exactly, I would have gone back and brushed away the detritus, but I don’t know where to start. I desultorily began in one corner, then thought, what’s the point.
Every gardener I hire, even the “good” ones — the ones that come well reviewed — even they come with no guarantees. Even they can be quite lazy. They sense I’m intimidated by my own garden and do what they please, then charge me a tidy sum, and all is well in the world because how would I know the difference?
So, this new gardener planted the lime tree full of thorns in the middle of my front lawn, where children and even me will surely scratch ourselves in coming years on nasty thorns. That will have to be moved. She planted the potted Gingko in a corner of my…