Weeds and Seeds: Ahh-Choo

Ahh-Choo

Weeds and seeds everywhere, and I'm sneezing every five minutes, it seems. (So many people have "blessed" me today that I'm feeling like Saint Michael of Hay Fever.) A snowstorm of floating white fluff balls filled the hot, blue sky this afternoon, which means the trees and weeds are engaging in their annual reproductive orgy. It's like I'm living in some creepy vegetable porn film. Actually, I like weeds, especially the flowering kind. I admire their persistence (easy for me to say, since I don't have a lawn or garden to tend at the moment). I've always thought that even dandelions were beautiful, and I used to pick them for my mom when I was a kid. I never understood, at the time, why she didn't seem to appreciate them much. (Though I recall that she would put them in a little vase of water--just to humor me, I suppose.) . . . At the bank the other day, I noticed that the garden plot near the door was full of tall grass and weeds, which surprised me. That doesn't seem like the type of image a conservative institution would want to project. Hmm. "You're money will grow like a weed at Crabgrass Bank"? . . . You can see some very attractive weeds here.
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