I had a flower garden I wasn't so fond of ... actually I use the term "flower garden" very loosely. Except for some daffodils, a tiny patch of dianthus and a little slightly shrubby plant whose name escapes me, nothing really wanted to grow there but weeds. I wanted to mulch the whole thing over and build a pergola there, except for the part about actually building the pergola. That just seemed like too much work, but I'm too cheap to pay someone else to do it. So I just bitched a lot about how much I hated that stupid weed garden and needed to figure out something to do with it.
Mr. Pants decided to help me out yesterday by making a unilateral decision to run over the whole bed with the lawn mower. I guess that's a start. At first I was sort of shocked, but really the only problem now is that the daffodil bulbs may be toast, because they need to re-absorb the nutrients in their leaves in order to bloom again next year. But feh, who needs daffodils? They're pretty for about a week and then they become yet another weedy-looking nuisance. (Digression: What I'm calling daffodils may actually be jonquils. But now that they've probably snuffed it, does it matter?)
Anyway, Mr. Pants says he wants a butterfly garden, presumably so he can take pictures of the little critters. I didn't ask, though ... for all I know he wants to catch them and pull their wings off. But he claims he is willing to do some digging to achieve said butterfly garden, which means that I want a butterfly garden, as well. Hitherto, Mr. Pants has not shown very little inclination toward any type of yard work so if he's willing to dig I'm going to do everything I can to encourage it. Also, it means I get to go buy plants at the Raleigh Farmers Market, which is the funnest part of any garden endeavor.
So I figure it will be a few years before we have to mow the weed patch over again because as Michael Pollan once pointed out, nature abhors a garden. I wonder how she likes pergolas?