Note to Self

June 6, 2026 — Pat Bertram

Note to self: Do not wear a fuzzy sweater when going out to walk around the yard.

Actually, it wasn’t the plush sweater that was the issue; it’s what I did once outside that instigated this note.

I was taking my daily stroll around my garden just to see what’s new, and I came across a couple of hollyhock seedlings in one of my daylily patches. I always have a hard time getting rid of desirable plants, misplaced though they might be, because these volunteers are often sturdier and easier to take care of than the ones I purposely planted. I also figure that anything wanting to live that badly deserves a chance. But hollyhocks in my daylilies? Nope, sorry. Because of their size and the thickness of their stalks, hollyhocks can take over an area, which wouldn’t be so bad, but since they are biennials, living for a year or two and then dying, I would eventually end up with neither hollyhocks nor daylilies.

So, much as it pained me, I dug up those hollyhocks. (I tried to simply pick them as if they were weeds, but the thick roots were already five or six inches deep.) Since I was already calf-deep in that garden plot, I stayed and pulled up a tub’s worth of dead larkspur, creeping Charlie, a couple of leafy spurge plants, and a whole lot of foxtail grasses that had gone to seed. Now those scraggly invaded daylilies have a chance.

I did temporarily leave a couple of other hollyhock babies since I’m not sure if they will be troubling any nearby plants. The New England asters in the area never do well, so perhaps it would be a good time to replant them.

Or not. I’ll have to wait to see how I feel when it comes time to do the larkspur cleanup in that area.

All that was great. No problem. (Surprisingly so since I’d slipped into a pair of sandals to go outside for what was supposed to be a brief gander at the yard — not the best footwear for a sustained bit of work.) I didn’t discover the real issue until I got inside and found my poor sweater covered in long barbed grass seeds that had managed to imbed themselves into the fabric. So, I had to spend as much time cleaning up the garment as I did cleaning up the garden.

Such is the life of a spontaneous gardener!

But still, it would behoove me to pay attention to what I wear outside or else pay attention to what I do outside when I am wearing whatever it is I am wearing.