It is What it is!

And the rains came! By all accounts our former hometown has had its share of the wet stuff as well.  I am not complaining, although the weather has been extremely hot, we had a short cold winter, a gorgeous spring and what appears to be an extremely hot summer.  Yet the much needed rains have come "just in time", the lushness of the landscape returning to it's glory.  As the heavens have opened so have the heat tolerant flowers, that I am sure despite their claim to fame, "heat tolerant," welcome the refreshing rains.  Some of these rains, in monsoon portions, causing flowers to be battered, rotting on the stems, but once the Florida sun appears, they quickly regroup.  However, the small little "children" that play within this vibrant playround of color, have also regrouped and to say they flourish, would be an understatement!  The Egg-Nazi, at wit's end (his normal place to be), uses his size thirteens to crush the thousands of snails that have taken up residence in many of his "babies!" He shakes the plant and the snails bail out only to be flattened by the two hundred fifty pound Egg-Nazi, mumbling, "gotcha, ya little bastard!"  I think a video of this procedure might perhaps serve as an "educational tool" for young snails contemplating taking up residence in Mr. Bill's garden.

The Flowers of Fred's News, nurtured by Mr. Bill for the five to six month growing season, suffered from many of the same pests although not in such monstrous proportions.  They too were subjected to the profanity spewing forth from Mr. Bill's lips as he waged war on foreign critters attacking on all fronts.  His flowers flourished for many reasons; his diligence and passion for all things growing.  People often asked him "what is the secret?" "They need to be loved, talked to and fed, they will become strong and vibrant!" he reveals.  "Like all living things, to flourish they must be nourished!"  I remind him the profanity that spews across their fragrant blossoms does not remind me of anything "loving!" "Talk is talk", he curtly replies.

This also brings to mind a conversation he recently had with his friend Mike, a Vietnam vet, who ambles around on one leg and has amazing balance that does boggles the mind.  Mike owns a beautiful piece of land here in Florida and grows some of the most gorgeous flowers I have ever seen.  Yes, he does this for a living so it was only natural one would think he'd be an authority on all things "Florida" when trying to duplicate his successes in growing these beauties. "Mike, how do you handle all this rain that pounds down on these flowers, isn't it too much for the flowers?" Mr. Bill questions. "Rain is rain" is the answer from the tightly pursed lips, holding the half chewed cigar, that is never lit.  Mike just chews on the end, occasionally removing the thing to spit disgustingly brown tobacco juice into the soil holding these sweet smelling delicate and fragile flowers.  I thought I might ask if that bit of foul smelling liquid had any adverse effects on all this gorgeous flora creating a sea of color for acres.  Knowing he probably fertilizes the crap out of them, I kept my thoughts and questions to myself for fear the answer would be, "it is what it is....shit is shit!