I need to say that of all the most unsolicited advice I have received in my many years of Internet and blog writing, the best and most reliable has come from garden lovers. They seem to know what they are doing and have given me invaluable advice that works.

I’ve learned to listen to it. Yesterday I got a barrage of gentle advice about dead-heading the Nasturtiums and planting spearmint to revive them.

Something about garden people is unique. They are knowledgeable, helpful, and gentle. They are never jerks about it, dumping on me for not knowing, didactic in their recommendations. Part of my issues with social media come from people who do not know how to be polite and thoughtful in their messaging.

It was an old survival tactic of mine, strike back against people who attacked or ridiculed me. A lot of this, I learned later, was my Dyslexia – people often mistake it for stupidity, dishonesty, or cruelty. They never understand why calling stupid, a liar, or crazy doesn’t promote civil dialogue.

The garden people are never disturbing in that way. They want to help, and unlike so many animal people, they know what they are talking about. I’m grateful for this advice.

A lot of it is the rudeness social media spawns with its anonymity, ease, lack of cost, or accountability. It’s honey to the angry and disturbed.

And apart from the sick, it’s never been freer, more accessible, or safer to be an asshole. I have never learned to react well to it, but I’m working on it. My bad.

But back to the garden people.

They have suggested dead-heading, which I sort of knew about, and educated me about Nasturtiums re-seeding (when I dead-head, put the head heads back in the soil. I’ve even been reminded that Nasturtiums are fun to eat and go well in salads.  These flowers reproduce and restore themselves. Trimming and clipping are good.

I don’t think I can bear to eat these flowers; they are the centerpiece of my memorial garden bed in honor of the children sacrificed so the gun manufacturers can make even more money.

I can’t even bear to think about these wasted lives and broken families. If there is a God, people will pay.

Anyway, off to get garden beds for the Mansion Memory Care Unit. More later.