T’was the Gardener Before Christmas
December 24th, 2013
I can’t even begin to guess how many people I’ve written about in 35 years of newspapering.
One of them was Joe Mateer, an uber-gardener from Lower Swatara Twp., whom I profiled along with his wife, Norma, earlier this year after they built a humongous labyrinth in their back yard.
So far as I can remember (which isn’t very far these days, thanks to a rapidly aging brain), none of my subjects has ever turned the tables and written about me.
Until now. After being driven inside by lousy weather, Joe diverted his time into composing a Christmas poem involving yours truly.
I was surprised, touched and humored – all at once.
He obviously put some thought into it, too. Either that or he’s been sniffing the compost again.
For your Christmas amusement, I thought I’d share Joe’s Georgian composition. Here you go:
T’was the week before Christmas
And all were out scurrying,
Except for George Weigel
Who was too busy worrying.
For while others were hanging
Their stockings with care,
George stared out the window,
His garden was bare.
There were trips to be planning
And catalogs to read,
For his task was to order
More plants and more seed.
But the noise from the roof
It made such a clatter,
He lifted his eyes
Saying, “Now what’s the matter!”
There were columns to write
And a book to finish,
He didn’t have patience
To have time diminish.
And to make matters worse
As the noise turned absurd,
Some crazed gardener e-mailed
About an evil great bird.
It seems a blue heron
Was attacking his fish,
George tilted his head
And muttered, “That’s problemish!”
But he responded with calm
And told the guy not to fret,
“Just cover the pond
With a sturdy black net.”
Plus, George nodded and added
With a wise “Atta-boy,
Take action. Be bold,
It’s not time to be koi!”
He laughed at his pun,
Hoped that’d bring a smile,
Take his mind off his problems,
Enjoy life for awhile.
Then George remembered
More food for fodder,
He, too, was quite happy
About his brand new granddaughter.
All seemed much better
As the reindeer flew off,
And George was content
As they travelled aloft.
But he couldn’t help hope
As they flew out of sight,
Next year would be better
With no tomato blight!
So dash away! Dash away!
And to all more cheers,
Merry Christmas to you
From all the Mateers!
Ha! How did he know all I want for Christmas is a tomato with no blight?
Thanks, Joe. Merry Christmas to the Mateers.
And from Sue and I, merry Christmas, happy holidays and groundhog-free gardens to all of you!