dear neighbor

By this time you may have noticed that your front flower bed has been slightly...denuded. A tad bereft of color, perhaps? Well, before you call the authorities to report a random marauding flower thief, please accept my humble apologies. It wasn't a no-good, anonymous wrong-doer. It was a bear. My Little Bear to be precise, and she didn't pick your flowers maliciously. She just doesn't understand ownership very well. Let me rephrase that, she understands HER ownership extremely well. (I won't bother telling you how many times I hear "MINE!" per day.) Little Bear doesn't realize yet that everything under the sun isn't her personal property.

I'm sure you can imagine my embarassment and mortification when she appeared at my side with a fist full of your flowers. I was appalled. But she looked so pleased with herself as she proudly thrust the flowers at me. Trust me, I scolded her and explained about your flowers belonging in your yard and ours in our yard. (I'm certain she absorbed every single word.)

Oh...what was I doing that I didn't have my sight trained on my sweetum's every move? Um, well, I was taking a picture of lichen on a dead tree branch. Notice the subtle striations of color? Surely you can understand my preoccupation and how I might have looked away for a moment. Only a second! She's just that fast.

(sniff) Some would consider it art. I'm just sayin'.

If you're going to get huffy and work yourself into a snit, then you're welcome to pick any flowers in our yard. And please refrain from making any comments about how our flower bed resembles the Amazonian jungle. At least within my hearing.

Yours in horticultural harmony,

Little Bear's Mum

Comments

[The Muse of The Day]

Ahhh ... life.
We once lived near the Canadian border- in a town that coveted the few days between Spring and Fall. The locals joyfully referred to those black fly infested days as "summer." I am surprised we lasted as long as we did after my daughter at age 3 ate every one of the neighbor lady's tomatoes just as they were ripening while she and I had gotten carried away in conversation. Life. Thanks for the little trip down memory lane. Carolina

[Kathy Turner Seiders]

You are not alone in this grief of spring flowers. One year, my son picked EVERY single one of my flowers, right below the bloom, all the way around the house (of course, it was still our house, so Little Bear's still up one on us).