Mood:
smellyTopic: "Tra La,Spring,Tra La"(6)
Tom Bombadil is a very good neighbor, despite his attractive front lawn. Several years ago, he noted that Frodo had invested heavily in something called zoysia (a form of grass that one can walk upon, but not smoke). Thanks to the generosity of Frodo, the small plugs and pieces transplanted into Tom's yard have become the envy of the Shire. Frodo, erroneously it seems, planted several trees and bushes amongst his new lawn, failing thereby to realize that these additions would grow and add shade to a lawn that thrives on full sun. Tom, the freeloader, took note and made no additions to his lawn.
For several years, Frodo has silently resented Tom's beautiful lawn and found instances to add stray locusts and grasshoppers into the bounteous shade of aquamarine that shimmers all summer. Despite the chicanery, the situation has worsened year-by-year as Frodo's lawn thins and Tom's makes every edition of "Gardens of the Shire."
Ah, but the end of a gruesome winter bodes well for the Hobbit. While Tom locked himself in his igloo, Frodo prowled the aisles of Home Depot in search of a solution to his contining embarrassment. With little free time on his hands, Frodo took advantage of the one day of the entire winter in which it neither rained, snowed, or allowed the wind to begale itself. Spreading an overly generous amount of "Weed n' Feed," Frodo now sports a lawn which is greening up nicely, and which is weed-free (so far). Tom, unfortunately (so says Frodo in public, anyway) seems to have borne the brunt of the weeds that no longer appear in Frodo's front lawn.
There is a God. The temperature today was 82, and the forsythias struggle against the blooming cherries. The dogwoods will follow the redbuds, and then the azaleas take over, and Frodo's Gardens become a sea of white. The weeds gather near Bombadil's front door.
Tra La.
