You know you've been journaling in one place too long when you can no longer remember what you've already written about.

And what you haven't.

And there are just too many darn back entries to search.

Now, I know I've mentioned the wild flag we have growing in our front flower bed. How I rescued a lone clump of that plant from the shoulder of a highway about to be reconstructed.

But have I ever mentioned the weed in the curbing?

We have no idea where it came from. But, because of its proximity to a large tree, and the absence of concrete curbing at that particular part of the street, it managed to not get mown off.

And bloomed.

And was quite pretty.

So we left it. My first thought was that it was a cultivated flower that had escaped from someone else's yard, but no, there are no others in the neighborhood. And then one fall I noticed a whole bunch of these plants blooming.

Out in the desert, by one of my check stations.

They're wild.

I even looked it up once, and found out the name, but I cannot find that particular book now. But I'm guessing probably hauled a seed home on the truck sometime, and it liked the bare ground at the edge of the asphalt.

So, we took care not to mow it off. Nor hit it with any of the lawn fertilizer that included weed killer.

But we worried. Just one car parked in the right spot, and it would be mashed, and probably gone.

So, without consulting me, one year the wife dug it up, and moved it up above the concrete curb.

And it promptly died.

Yup, it has a tap root, and she didn't dig deep enough to get it all.

I watched for blossoms in the wild plants at my check station, but there were no seeds that year. No source for a new piece of the wild in our yard.

But the next year, the original plant came back. She apparently left enough tap root for the thing to recover.

Weeds are like that.

Aaaand, her transplanted plant came back, too. Apparently she took enough tap root to keep the new plant alive.

Weeds are like that, you know.

So the question this year was, which will bloom first? The original seeded plant, or the transplanted clone?

The clone won.