Finally, Some Snark.

This blog is called “Snark and Cookies”, but I noticed that we have been woefully short on snark lately.  Actually, we’ve been short on cookies too, come to think of it.  My absolute best recipe (Chocolate Brownie Cookie Thingies, or CBCTs for short) is only available on a need-to-know basis, but I could probably come up with something cookie-related at some point.

Unless I forget.

Which I will.

(Hey, at least I’m honest.)

Anyway, snark.  (I may be a little out of practice, so bear with me here.)  Can someone please explain to me about primroses?  I don’t mean glorious bursts of color like this Eugenie primrose (courtesy of

No, those are perfectly lovely, and practically worth moving to England for.  (I’m sure I could think of other reasons to move to England, but blue primroses would be on the list.)  No, I’m talking about THESE:

Even this picture makes a tiny bit of sense because they’re in a curved line, like the rocks, but … no, I still don’t get it.  What possesses people to buy these tiny compact plants, in a variety of utterly clashing colors, and plant them all a foot apart with gaping expanses of bark dust between them?  They aren’t creeping vines that will fill in all the gaps by May, and have you clipping them back by July, and find you attacking them in desperation with a weed-whacker by September just to keep them from attacking innocent pedestrians.  They aren’t rare and fragile orchids that look their best when seen in splendid isolation.  They’re slow to self-propagate, if they’ll bother to do it at all, so it’s not even a long-term plan like daffodils or tulips, where a few planted a ways apart will some day grow into a sweeping mass of soft pinks or brilliant yellows.

They’re just squat, smug little things, sitting there staring at me as I go by on my walk.  Especially those red ones with the yellow centers – they always look vaguely ominous to me, like little red-rimmed eyes.  I swear they’re looking at me, the ones on the corner of 9th and Taylor, you know the yard I mean, with the perfect little grass and the perfect little shrubs and the yard edged so straight you’re afraid you’ll cut yourself if you step on it.  They cut down their trees, probably because they weren’t perfect little trees, and planted primroses instead.  Perfect little bark dust (the weeds wouldn’t dare grow) and rows of primroses, camped out at intervals, sneering at me as I pass.

“We KNOW you don’t like us, and we don’t CARE.  We don’t CARE if we clash, we LIKE it like that.  We are never going to do anything useful, just sit here looking at you with a nasty expression on our squinched-up little faces, and if we could, we would TRIP YOU.”

Would it be wrong of me to come out in the dead of night, pull them up, pack them all willy-nilly into one planter with some pale blue gilia growing wild around the edges to soften it up, and plant a couple of redwood saplings in their place?

[moment of stunned silence as I re-read what I just wrote]

Something tells me that if I am contemplating guerilla gardening and imagining that my neighbor’s flowers actively dislike me, I may need a little more sleep.  Good night, then, and if there are trees growing at 9th and Taylor in the morning, I know nothing about it.

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20 Responses to Finally, Some Snark.

  1. ullajur says:

    You wouldn’t dare !!? ;-)

  2. Andrea Ward says:

    I’m a new reader here and have been enjoying what I am reading. Today I enjoyed it so much that I had to comment. I do not have a green thumb and know virtually nothing about gardening. So not only did I chuckle while reading this post, I also learned quite a bit as well. Thanks for the laugh and the education.

    • Bee says:

      Welcome, Andrea! Come back any time – I am not the MOST reliable with my posting schedule, but it’ll be lovely to see you whenever you stop in. :) I took a look at your blog too, and I’m looking forward to reading more.

      • Andrea says:

        I don’t really have a schedule either. Once a week I try to say something. I’m glad you enjoyed what you read.

  3. DO IT!! I just may have to follow your lead and do some guerrilla gardening of my own. Just take pictures because I’m sure it would be way more hilarious in reality than in my paltry imagination.

    My mother-in-law has a particularly adversarial relationship with nature and has been known to remove plants from her “yard” that have “gotten too big” as well as viciously attack ornamental grass in MY garden that “needed a trim” (she trimmed my garden to the soil). We have almost come to blows in Home Depot when she was staying with me and wanted to buy lawn bags to “help me prune my bushes” (translation – pull up everything living in my yard and replace it with seedlings).

    She lives in Arizona. She tells me it takes her about 6 hours a week (every week!) to weed her property…in the desert. When I joked that she should look into getting green tinted concrete to replace her “landscaping,” she informed me that she looked into it and it was too expensive.

    Let me get my night vision goggles and trowel and I’ll join you!

  4. Margie says:

    I was going to suggest Guerrilla Gardening, until I saw your last paragraph and realized that you had already thought of that. But I was thinking of testing the ‘tacky’ waters. Maybe add a Gnome or two, stick a few bundles of plastic flowers here and there, the odd pink flamingo… Unless, of course, you already have these in your yard, in which case I apologize for calling them ‘tacky’…

    • Bee says:

      I thought I’d coined the term a year or two ago, but it’s funny enough that I’m not surprised to find out it’s a real thing. I like your idea VERY much, and I do not have gnomes, plastic flowers, or pink flamingos. I have an interestingly designed metal windchime in the shape of two frogs, but with the windchimes removed because I hate windchimes with a passion that will probably produce another rant at some point.

      The thing with the tacky plastic flowers, though – if I added them to their yard, would anyone even notice?

  5. And send some of those CBCTs my way. I’ll remind you.

  6. planejaner says:

    come to my garden.
    come to me.
    primroses are gorgeous…
    and I love the snark.
    by the way, can I be on the “need to know” list for those brownies?

  7. And you think my mind is strange. Flowers out to get you? Wait, there may be a story in that. What if flowers were really out to get you? What if there were sentient guerilla flowers? I’ll have to think about this.

    • Bee says:

      I think it takes one to know one, in this case. I cannot WAIT to see what you write about sentient guerilla flowers.

      Oh wait, those already exist – out here we call them “weeds.”

  8. “… like little, red-rimmed eyes.” We can’t possibly be twins separated at birth, but I have always been especially irked by those, too! If I had any sort of green thumb, I would probably have considered Nocturnal Guerilla Gardening myself at some point!

    And don’t get me started on wind chimes! Unlike babies, who I feel are actually therapeutic for fifteen minutes out of every hour (my dear daughter cried or fussed for approximately 45 minutes out of every hour as an infant), I think that a good melodic set of wind chimes is only pleasing for about five minutes in the morning. After I’ve awakened. And after I’ve had coffee.

    Sorry. When wind chimes are mentioned, I have trouble holding that in. Oh, and I just subscribed. I need to be around when the cookie recipe arrives!

  9. I share your dislike of tiny flowers planted in widely spaced rows. I think if there is a problem with the flower budget, it would be more economical to buy some actual ground cover or some bushy perennials that will last. It would also be more attractive!
    Also, if they insist on planting primroses, marigolds, or cockscomb, how about doing it in clumps instead of lines, and with some color uniformity, so it looks more natural?

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