Out I went, clippers in hand, ready to tame some landscaping. Now I know they have a real name other than clippers but that’s what I call them. Anyway…I went out to weed and hack through my perennial garden/jungle masquerading as a garden. Rather early into the task, I realized it was hot outside. Feeling a little duped, I was primed to abandon my job and go back inside. But frankly, the PBA was driving me a little nuts so I chose the heat outside over the crazy arguing inside.
After a while, as I saw progress, I was more engaged in the work. Although I was a little on edge because I kept seeing things jumping, but could never see what they were. I still am not 100% certain but I think they were grasshoppers…I’m pretty quick that way. So I was trying to continue my work and not be spooked by the grasshoppers. And not bothered by the heat or the sweat rolling down my forehead and into my eyes. Can we all picture this? It was a lovely sight to behold, I’m sure.
So I had hacked off a rather over-grown False Blue Indigo, and was in the process of cutting it into smaller pieces for my “collapsible yard waste bag”. I own such an item because apparently my husband got sick of me filling up buckets of plant clippings and weeds and leaving them in the garage. Actually, sorry, it’s not “apparently” – it is “definitively”; make no mistake…he was completely fed-up.
So I’m trimming into bits this big plant which I have hacked off, and I’m stuffing it into my bag. And then something jumps off the plant at me. Of course I scream..yes, like a GIRL…and throw down my clippers. Then I saw it on the ground.
I ran in the house and got out my trusty bug-catching jar (yes, who doesn’t have an old pickle jar for just such an occasion?) and brought it outside. I cut up a few small pieces of the plant on which I had been working and stuck them in the jar (because that makes it JUST like a bug’s natural habitat and they love that…it makes it appear that they haven’t been captured at all); then I coaxed a brown praying mantis into the jar. And I slammed on the lid, lest he try to make an escape.
I took him inside and called the boys. To my delight they came running. So maybe this homeschooling thing is starting to wear off on them. They were excited to see what I had caught and RAN (yes I know…I shouldn’t condone running in the house, especially after the broken-toe episode) but I was thrilled that they even cared.
So they came running in the kitchen, all excited to look in the jar.
I regaled them with my tale; ok, I just told them what happened. And I ended it with, “Yeah, and when he jumped, he really scared the snot out of me!”
Of course, my 9yo would have a comment. “Eeww Mom, that’s gross. You shouldn’t say SNOT! That’s just disgusting. You should say CRAP! ‘He scared the CRAP out of me!’”
Perhaps my garden isn’t the only thing that needs to be weeded out.
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