Mountain Musings


Johnny’s Garden


Last week, I ran out of available words so I’m continuing where I left off, talking about making your home and mine hardened and safe from the ravages of a wildfire, which could occur at any moment, now that weeds and chaparral have grown taller due to some recent storm activity.


In addition to removing all the limbs and branches on your property so they don’t get tangled up in your weed eater string (it’s actually plastic), which will slow down your progress, it’s important to wear thick clothing and thick, steel-toed boots, just in case you encounter a rattlesnake, which I often do, since they tend to come out hibernation around Mother’s Day, which is coming up on May 8, (hint, hint, it’s not wise to forget).


I don’t like spiders and snakes and that ain’t what it takes to love me you fool, like I wanna be loved by you. Well, I think of that girl from time to time, I call her up when I’ve got a dime. I say, “Hello, baby,” she say, “Ain’t you cool. I don’t like spiders and snakes, you fool, you fool. (“Spiders and Snakes – Jim Stafford – 1974)


Also, be sure to wear protective eyewear to protect your eyes from rocks and debris kicked up by the weed eater. I’ve learned from experience that tilting the weed eater to the left will usually propel rocks and debris away from you, whereas tilting it to the right tends to propel them directly at you.


Well, my vinca garden is getting thick and lush with more of those beautiful periwinkle blossoms. The Missus always says that I have a brown thumb when it comes to gardening, but what does she know?


She has a brown thumb when it comes to cooking and she burns my toast. (Don’t tell her I said that because I hate sleeping on the couch.) The truth is I really enjoy getting out into the fresh air to tend to my vinca and rose gardens, watering them only when necessary and removing weeds by pulling them up by the roots so they don’t grow back.


Rock musician and composer Stephen Stills is apparently a fan of gardens as well as, while living in the UK many moons ago, his garden was tended by a fellow named Johnny. He said the gardener came with the house when he bought it, so it really was Johnny’s Garden.


There’s a place I can get to where I’m safe from the city blues, and it’s green and it’s quiet, only trouble was I had to buy it, and I’ll do anything I got to do, cut my hair and shine my shoes and keep on singin’ the blues, If I can stay here in Johnny’s Garden.


Well, I ain’t about to cut my hair and I never shine my trademark Vans footwear. Just like last week, I’m running out of available word space, so I’ll see you again next week, same time, same bat channel.


Keep it flyin’, Uncle Mott