I had really hoped to post some garden photos this week — at least the front garden, which was stripped of about 90% of its grass and replaced with wildflowers during the first four weeks of spring up here. After I got home from Chicago on Sunday night, I noticed that there were many buds and even some blooms.
But, as those who read my personal diary already know, that can’t happen. There are no more flowers.
This is a rental property, and while the property management company has pretty much given me complete permission to do whatever I want with the property’s garden, there is still lawn maintenance that has to be attended to, or the city starts tacking on $75 fines for each warning. Fair enough — if I can ever afford to FINALLY make these garden plans a reality, this would have been the only year for any major maintenance. The downside to this is, if my house-mate and I ever find ourselves unable to borrow the lawnmower of our friends up the street and down a few blocks, property management wants to send a guy out to mow the lawn.
The groundskeeping supervisor has been out here before, and knows what I’m doing to the garden; it’s not difficult to understand or explain. Unfortunately, he’s not the one who came out here today, and I guess the guys that DID come out have no idea what it means when three different people all say “leave everything in front of the house alone, except for the border around the pavement; it’s a wildflower garden”. Even my neighbours told them to leave it alone.
When I caught on to the fact (from upstairs, my window is tiny, so I was going completely on sounds of lawnmowers) that these were a couple of MORONS sent out to take care of my grass, my beautiful flowers had been razed, and I was told it “looked like weeds”. My sprinkler had been taken far from the centre of the entire garden (indicating that everything there was intentional, you’d think) and my stepping-stones had clearly been moved onto the porch steps, and I was told that if I “really cared about anything [that had been cut down]”, that I’d’ve mowed the grass myself.
I’ve spent the entire day alternating between livid and heartbroken. My voice is raw and hoarse from shouting, and I’m already sick and tired of people telling me “at least it’s wildflowers, it’ll grow back soon enough”. I’ve spent significant portions of my livid time fantasising about the especially jerky one being Catholic — so that he’d have statues of their Virgin, grotesque crucifixes, and votive candles for me to smash to pieces and then say to him “well, it looked like garbage, what did you expect me to do?” Really now, I’d laid down a Bird & Butterfly mix — creatures sacred to Eros & Psyhkhe — it really IS comparable to Catholics and their Death Cult paraphernalia.
It’s hard not to get discouraged in all of this: I really can’t pay for more garden tools, seeds, flowers, and so forth right now, and so far, that seems to be my best option to fight off the immense anger from today’s events. As my humanoid meat-based house-mate noticed, on the rare occasions I’ve stayed angry for a few days, it makes me miserable; it physically exhausts me, and I can get very depressed, very fast. Despite returning from Chicago with plenty of money, it’s become very clear to me that I need new glasses, and it’s either New Glasses or New Garden Stuff — and I have a coupon to make New Glasses affordable to me next month.
I hate asking for more donations like this (especially since Personal Dramas™ have already made it so that I’m *really, immensely behind* on coffee readings), I really wanted to put off rebooting the donations campaign until I had photos to post, but I need something to help me focus on positive things and remain optimistic and hopefully that energy will help what was destroyed so heartlessly find its way back.