A few weeks ago there was an asparagus incident involving my loving husband. I've had a request for the story so here goes.
The asparagus patch is the holy grail around here and the source of many awesome meals from breakfast all the way to dinner. It came with the place and is the envy of most visitors. It takes years to get a small harvest and about a decade for a true crop. I had nothing do with it but it is one of my pride and joys. My husband would like nothing better than to mow it down the second it is done producing. I love how the morning dew gathers on the feathery branches and how the first frost of the fall sparkles in the morning sunshine not to mention how beautiful it looks before and after a snowstorm. For me it is breathtaking. According to him "It looks like hell". He will mow and whack anything I let him near or don't let him near for that matter. He actually just whacks at things when I'm gone risking my wrath when I return... it's doesn't stop him. He tries to weed the flower garden. You wonder why I have a problem with that? Why I tend to sound soooo ungrateful because I have a husband that actually helps with the flower beds? Well, the only time I agreed to him weeding the perennial bed I regretted it so much. What was I thinking? The man doesn't know a daisy seedling from a milk weed and could care less. Let's just say it's taken over 4 years to replant the perennial bed and to have it return to it's pre-husband weeding attack glory. Most of the time he means well but some of the time he's just like the honey badger...he doesn't give a shit.
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