By this point in time, the hosta has been celebrated here enough, dispelling any notion of being ignored or under-appreciated as referenced in my lazy blog post title. Hey, this website has been around for almost twenty years, you try thinking of something new and exciting that hasn’t been said before. I’ll wait.
Sorry, it’s Tuesday, and Tuesdays bring out the worst in me. They are so much worse than Mondays. On Monday we all expect things to suck, so when they are even semi-bearable they never seem quite as bad. We forget about Tuesdays, and how awful they can be, so they feel so much worse. I digress, and quite a bit, as we are supposed to be honoring the hosta.
A number of our hostas were eaten in the early spring by our over-zealous rabbits just as they were poking through the spring soil, and at the worst possible time. (I’m told this is the stage that humans can consume their tender shoots too, but I would never do that to such a beautiful plant.) The bunnies took no heed of that kind of restraint, and promptly tore through several clumps before the poor plants could even get going.
The hostas rebounded slightly, throwing out a few new spikes of leaves to unfurl, though many were marred by the rabbit’s bites. Slugs have also proven to be a problem in this hot and humid year, and I haven’t gotten around to buying a six-pack of beer to lure and bloat them with beer bellies. It’s simply been too hot, and sometimes you have to let nature take her course, trusting that she will protect what needs true protection.
Gardening remains a ruthless game. The hosta knows this, and will not ask for more.
