And I mean that literally!

I love my garden in the spring but all of a sudden in July it goes crazy and it scares me. Perhaps it was all those Tarzan movies I watched as a kid - you know the ones with poisonous snakes and quicksand and whatever lurked beneath that loincloth. Anyhow I garden at this time of year with trepidation. It is with a faint heart I wade into shoulder high phlox to trim the climbing rose.

I'm not sure what I fear - mosquitoes, rose thorns, snakes and sickly white borer beetles are all realistic possibilities. I am also afraid that I might step on Mr. Toad who sometimes has a beer with Mr. Nag on the patio. I once cut the leg off a toad when I was doing a bit of trimming. As you can imagine this resulted in hysteria and was perhaps the trigger for my acquired garden phobia. The worst and most delusional fear is that the body of one of the beloved spaniels we buried on the property will somehow rise to the surface and I'll be confronted with terrifying putrefaction.
Now you know.