Sunday, July 11, 2010


They know, they just know where to grow, how to dupe you, and how to camouflage themselves among the perfectly respectable plants, they just know and therefore, I’ve concluded weeds must have brains!” ~Dianne Benson

This weekend I’ve been weeding my gardens—all 12,475 square feet of them. After three days of tugging, digging, sweating, thinking choice bad words, and giving up before starting again, I’ve come to a conclusion. If I were a plant, I’d want to be a weed.

Why? They grow and flourish anywhere. Their roots go deep. It doesn’t matter if we have floods or drought, they grow. And weeds can be very pretty. But few animal or insect finds them appetizing. Weeds are survivors and are very prolific. Don’t fool yourself, the weeds will win!

In my jr. high and high school days, if the demographics were plants we had hothouse flowers, spring bulbs, Walmart annuals and perennials and weeds. Of course the hothouse flowers were the popular students. Spring bulbs had their bright moments but soon faded into oblivion. In order for the Walmart annuals and perennials to shine they needed a lot of care and coaxing. But the weeds, they didn’t need a thing. People considered them the least desirable, even a pain, but the weeds dug in even though they weren’t the “popular” kids.

Years later I’ve found that the hothouse flowers have faded. The spring bulbs still shine for a season. The annuals and perennials are no longer coaxed and have disappeared. But oh, those weeds! How they have flourished!

I was a spring bulb, but my husband was a weed. My goodness, how he has thrived. The girls may not have given him a second look, but believe me, if they knew him now they’d be so sorry. Not only is he one of the most thoughtful, romantic of men, he is very successful. I’m learning to be a weed from him.

Why am I writing this?

If you feel you are not as smart, as glamorous, as important, as pretty, as wealthy, as desirable, as anything than those around you, don’t worry about it. Dig in, grow in your own soil, love who you are.

Be a weed.

1 comment:

Patty said...

Interesting analogy. I was doing the same thing this weekend--pulling weeds. Although, the choice words were echoing through the holler instead of staying in my head. I like the idea of comparing tenacious people to crab grass. They just won't let go, will they? I need to learn from them and not give up easily.