Sometimes a good shovel and a strong back are not enough and we have to ask for help in the garden

Sometimes a good shovel and a strong back are not enough and we have to ask for help in the garden
                        
As a person of character, I try not to give up. I try to soldier on. I try to endure because in the end, success can generally be found in persistence. I gave up last weekend. I gave up because I did not have the right tools, the strength or the wherewithal to remove an overgrown hydrangea bush from the ground. I had wanted to remove the bush for sometime for logistical and aesthetic reasons. It ruined the view, put the herb garden in the shade and was dangerously close to marring the 1867 brick sidewalk. This was no ordinary hydrangea bush. This bush was in cahoots with a locust tree with a taproot that reached to the very core of the planet. Somehow, the two had become intertwined, formed a devilish pact and were to never be separated or so they led me to believe. Bright eyed, relatively bushy tailed and with a full cup of tea in hand, I strolled to the barn to retrieve the Shovel of Justice. This shovel has seen the family through many trying times like the rat incident of 2006, the dead skunk incident of 2008 and 2012 as well as few pet burials. It seemed the perfect tool for the removal of the hydrangea bush. Twenty minutes into Operation Get Rid of the Hydrangea, the Shovel of Justice snapped in two. While I am still mourning the loss of the shovel, this was not when I gave up. I retrieved a second, yet unnamed shovel from the barn. Apprehensive I would break it as well; I went about digging around the expansive and impenetrable root system gingerly. This was not a tactic that would prove useful. That is when I gave up. Operation Get Rid of the Hydrangea did not end there. The man of the house but rarely the garden did what any self-respecting homeowner would do when asked if he had any ideas. He took a spud bar and violently plunged it into the earth, repeatedly and with greater and greater force around the bush. In about 40 minutes, the hydrangea and the locust tree were no more. It was not pretty. There may have been colorful language and a blister was born. I will admit, I did ponder how pyramids and great walls were built when I could not even remove a bush but then I remembered the thousands of slaves. I am not always strong enough or smart enough to accomplish the tasks that come with the garden. I have pretty much decided if it requires heavy equipment or a team of horses, I probably cannot do it or afford it and I am going to have to lower my expectations. The missing hydrangea and good-for-nothing locust tree enhance the appearance of the yard and the herb bed will get more sun. Success, this time, came in the form of asking for help, something I am not always able to do. I am learning. I am adopting the pace of nature. Her secret is patience.


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