Saturday, January 22, 2011

The Weeder Ran Away with the Trowel.

How do you lose a gardening tool? A useful, necessary gardening tool?
As a kitchen analogy, I remember a few years ago noticing that our collection of stainless flatware (service for eight) was missing a few forks. How could that happen?
Cranky had a theory. A good one. He speculated that the forks had been spirited into the trash, accidentally and at different times, by having been mingled with the used artichoke leaves. It made sense. We always ended up with what literally looks like a gallon of leaves in a big stainless bowl at the end of a meal. They just got dumped unceremoniously into the trash (this was before we were composting). Nobody would notice the tiny glint of metal, hiding in the foliage, sliding into the garbage bag.
I choose to stick to that explanation, because anything else I can come up with is too exotic, too mentally ill, too embarrassing.
And that's how I decided to explain the missing weeding tool. It wasn't fancy. Even had a few rust spots. But it worked, all the time, and we weren't inclined to toss it.
It must have "tossed itself" into the yard waste barrel, all tangled up in dandelions. When I weed, I take a big plastic bucket with me and move it from place to place, collecting the detritus. At the end of my weeding session, I incautiously (I guess) toss the contents into the barrel. Bye-bye, tool.
Well, it's perfect weather for weeding. Now. Today. Wet ground and clear, sunny skies. I needed a weeder. Cranky bought two. ("One's a backup," he suggested helpfully. "Hell no," I said. "We're doing tandem work, my dear.")
So, you see these tools? With the beautifully enameled red shaft, such a color? And the hippie Renaissance Faire dye work on the wood handles? Don't want to lose these.
I do wish I hadn't lost the really strong, butch, green-handled trowel, though. It probably went out in the barrel too. We got a replacement, but it's just not the same.
Cranky thinks he might be able to find one with a multi-dyed handle.


Zoomie said...

I often find my "lost" tools where I left them, out in the garden hidden under a plant. Oops. If I'm lucky, they haven't rusted beyond repair.

SimplyStated said...

Your explanation of where the lost tool went is very believable.

Much more believable than the line my hubby used to give me every time a good snowstorm swept through about "How the shovel just up and ran away after it saw all the snow" and would then mysteriously re-appear a few days after the 1st melt.

The shovel never "up and ran away" when it was my turn for DSRD(Damn-Snow-Removal-Duty)

It took this transplanted southern Californian two seasons of snow to realize that if you throw the shovel out in the middle of the back yard right before the snow starts falling will in fact not see the shovel until the first melt.

He had me for 2 years on that one.

Ms Brown Mouse said...

Spoons, teaspoons, we loose teaspoons.

When I do weeding (pruning etc) I drop as I go, leaving a trail of detris behind me. Later, Mr Brown comes along with a rake & the compost collection bag, muttering evil things ...

cookiecrumb said...

Zoomie: That's a good explanation, and you actually recover your missing utensils. My yard doesn't have any hiding places, except for the large bush where Bartlett takes her toys, and... OMG, you don't think?!

Simply: Your husband is clever, but still a cad. I have no doubts you were easily fooled, not coming from snow and cad country yourself. (Teasing. I bet he's the best, in other ways.)

Mouse: I know. Teaspoons. Where do they go? They're gone!
I dare not leave a trail of detritus, because so many of the weeds I'm pulling are ready to explode with seeds. Can't have that. I even stuff extra-ripe weeds into plastic bags. Mr Brown, you hear that? Mutter, mutter.

Zoomie said...

Simply, your hubs is a crafty devil, isn't he? :-) I used to live in snow country, too. I like rain better - you don't have to shovel it.

Ms. Mouse, My Beloved cleans up after me, too. He thinks that equals out the effort but, in fact, I'm out there cursing and weeding for hours longer than it takes him to clean up. On the other hand, I'm dead after all that, so I bless him anyway.

Zoomie said...

Cookiecrumb, although I usually agree with Olbermann, I don't like him either. In an odd way, he is to the left what Glenn Beck is to the wackos.

cookiecrumb said...

Zoomie: I prefer not to be bellowed at by bloviators, no matter their red/blue preference. What a blowhard.

Zoomie said...

Cookie, amen to that!

Greg said...

And the dish ran away with the spoon!Like Ms. Brown Mouse we lose teaspoons. Oh and don't get me started about socks.

cookiecrumb said...

Greg: I guess at a certain point in a longevity marriage, it will be OK to get all new silverware.
And, I know where the socks are. Just outside the washer's cylinder, next to the actual housing of the machine. If the load gets too high, the socks just spin out over the lip. Isn't that creepy?