Happy Birthday, Queen Vic-Chore-ia

I have a proposal to all Torontonians out there:  Stop calling it the May Two-Four weekend, as though all you do is hang out, enjoy life, drink a case of brewski (hence the cutesy two-four for 24 for the 24 of May in which Queen Victoria was born)…no, call a spade a spade, in fact, pick up a spade and start digging in yer gardens and call it May Too-Many-Chores weekend.  What are you doing this weekend?  You ask this to any random person that lives in the GTA and Smuggy McSmugginton will reply:  “Going up to The Cottage, blah blah…chores, this and that, painting a porch, blah, cleaning up bear and raccoon fecal matter, more chores, toasting bread in a toaster with mouse fecal matter embedded, blah blah”….Fun!  I’m here in the city with my own chores, keeping up with the Chore Family who live next door:

The Chore Family are the best neighbours I’ve ever had (they have my back!) and their compulsive need to snip, rake, weed (the verb), and refine their garden has rubbed off on me a tiny bit.  Their lawn looks like an expensive haircut because every fifth sprig is a clover.  Tip: when a lawn is entirely blades of grass it looks like a military haircut. the clovers add texture and visual interest.  Although I have learned this, I have not bothered to apply it, my grass has alapacea from stress.  They plant flowers in containers, I throw seeds in a plot in front of the  the porch because for me the only good plant is a useful one, ie edible (mint, for mojitos and tzatziki), protective (those sharp weeds, deters burglars), or awe-inspiring (that wretched overgrown butterfly bush that brings all the Monarchs around in September).  But now I tinker around a little more, pulling wayward green grass chards between the interlocking bricks, it’s a relaxing activity.  And the other day, I bought a hanging basket:

Go big or go home, is my motto.  I got the mega-hanging plant at the garden place at Coxwell and Fairside and paid 50 bucks for the big purple spill of petunias in a peat pot.  This weekend I will cut those dumb ass floppy fickle tulips out of the garden, pour some fresh soil and dump my seeds: California poppies and nasturtium….trust me, you can eat these, although why would you want to (?! that goes for you, too, Mr. Artichoke) but I bet they would make perfect garnish in some martini this summer, I’ll keep you posted on that.  So this weekend, I might call it May Six Pack because really, I need to paint my porch….

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