Well, I did it; I took my shovel and went into possibly snake-occupied territory and dug up a big fern. Fortunately, the rain I have been cursing for making the grass grow a whole big lot, has softened the earth and it was not a hard dig. The intertwining roots of the surrounding myrtle didn’t help, though. But, anyway, I got it out and in a bucket. And then I drove off and left the bucket. BUT, just as I passed the front of the house, I realized a giant fern was not seatbelted into the car; so I turned back.
After trying to calculate how much sun this fern got at Mother’s, I decided on a spot under a tree and near the corner of the six-foot fence. The soil is fairly good there since years ago I dumped some good dirt there, thinking that I would plant stuff. HA. Well, at least Fern is there now.
Yes, I have named her Fern, because I got tired of saying “the fern.” Subconsciously, I am probably thinking that if I think of her as Fern, maybe I will take better care of her. I am going to wait to see how she comes along before I dig up more Mother ferns. Now I am wondering, would they need names? Rose is taken, you know; but, of course, that’s silly because Rose isn’t a fern . . . even though a rose by any other name . . .
Fern is what my sister named her Brown Swiss baby. She will grow to be a lovely gentle milk producing cow.
Hmmm would that mean she is a gentle cow producing milk or a cow producing gentle milk? I need to not read your grammar posts…..