Princess and I were out in the backyard this morning, gathering kindling and firewood for the Girl Scout campout this weekend.
For those who may not know, we live in the forest. Lots of pine trees (and pollen!), no grass, lots of dirt, lots of pine needles.
This is generally what our yard looks like:
We haven’t had decent precipitation for YEARS – total drought. We’ve lived in this house for 10 years, and our yard has always looked like this, except for the first couple years when we had some random greenery growing. Note the “stuff” in the lower left corner.
It caught Princess’s eye this morning. She dropped her wood, ran over to it, and said . . . “What is THAT?!” . . . as she pointed to this:
Um – it’s a living green thing, Sweetie.
She actually said “How did it get there? Did you plant it? When would you have time to plant that? And WHY did you plant it there?!”
Um – I didn’t plant it. It got there because it has actually RAINED every afternoon for the past 2 weeks . . . just like it’s supposed to here! Amazing how green things grow when there’s water around
She crossed her arms, said “Huh” and went back to gather her wood. I guess you know you live in a mountain region experiencing a long drought when your 10-year old daughter wonders how the weird green stuff got in her backyard!
On another note . . . I thought I’d check out this little planter area of our yard since we had random greenery in other places. I have never planted anything in our yard, but the first spring we lived here (when it actually rained!), these started growing:
We had nice afternoon showers every summer day for the first few years we live here. Then the drought. I haven’t seen them for 6 years! Yet, here they are again, as soon as we got a little rain. They always look like this – about 9″ tall with no flowers. There are only these 3. Anyone know what they are and how they can hide for 6 years without popping up during the drought, then magically appear after a couple weeks of some moisture?
I’ll take it – a little green is good And apparently, it’s time to rake my pine needles . . . ack!