Getting Soft

31 08 2016

In school, I was the one who made my teachers nervous.

I scared the daylights out of a few bosses in my career.

Yes,  some people found me intimidating – and I liked it.

But, oh, how times have changed. I’ve lost my edge.  I’ve gone soft.

How do I know?  I can’t kill my rose bushes. 

I have two rose bushes that are just big old Japanese beetle lures.  Just as they begin to show promise of beautiful blooms –WHAM – the buffet begins.  The little bastards completely engulf every bud and flower and chomp them down to nothing but bare stems.  Because of the bees and the butterflies, I will not spray to kill these winged metallic eating machines, so my only choice is to replace the bushes with less beetle-licious plants.

The roses have to go.

This afternoon, I decided I would do the deed.  I got my Felco #2s and my shovel and I headed for the rugosas . . . and then, I cried.  I just sat down in the yard and cried. 

It is not their fault that they are so beloved by beetles.   They are doing their best.  They are not beauties, but they are alive – and so I will find a less prominent place in my landscape for them (and the damn beetles) and we’ll all go on.

Now, to those of you who bought into my warrior persona: you weren’t alone.  I did to, until I realized that it was just a role and it took a whole lot of energy to play. In truth, I’ve always been soft.  It was just  (for many years and many likely foolish reasons) important to me that no one knew it.  Now I know that life is gentler to us when we are gentler people.  Warriors will always find battles. I no longer wish to fight for the sake of fighting.

Onward with peace, love, and chewed-up roses.

8-31 a


8-31 b

End-of-season hanger-on. Varmint.

8-31 c

Why I changed my mind. Well played, Fru Dagmar Hastrup.




5 responses

31 08 2016

Liking this one a great deal, Missy XOXOXO

31 08 2016

Thank you, Miss Janice.

31 08 2016
Dan Perkins

A win win. You win, the roses win and the damn beetles win.

31 08 2016

Thanks, Dan.

6 09 2016
Maggie Little

You need chickens. At peak beetle season, Kevin would pick them off the cherry trees and toss them to the girls. One still follows him around hoping for crunchy treats.

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