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Saturday, March 28, 2009

You say weeds, I say wildflowers

These lovelies are along Reynolda Road. In my own front yard, there are occasional bursts of wild violets but no dandelions that I've seen. Lots of those violets, though, and this is odd, because normally the gardener is obsessive about the front yard, I long ago having banned his chemicals (though he swears they're all-natural and not dangerous) from the backyard.

The wildflowers were my first clue that the gardener had disappeared, followed by wild onions running rampant, a bush that was allowed to flower this year without being pruned into an unnatural shape, and finally tall tufts of grass.

Unable to reach him by cellphone at the only number I have (but to be fair, I haven't called him in at least two years, and many people change their providers and numbers when contracts end) and unable to find any number for him in the phonebook, I spent two non-rainy days last week driving all over Buena Vista, down streets where I usually see him when he's not parked outside my house.

Alas, no luck.

I guess I'll wait a few more weeks before declaring his service as dead as the former owner of this house, from whom we inherited the daffodil bed the gardener tended, the bush the gardener regularly shaped into a cube, and the gardener himself.
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