The Price of Procrastination

Once someone called me "Johnny-on-the-spot." I'm not sure if it was meant as a compliment, considering the context I heard it in. Nevertheless, I do have a reputation for not letting the grass grow under my feet. It can be obsessive. And it isn't always beneficial. Ask my family.

While I abhor procrastination, I must confess I dabble in it, especially when it comes to my gardens. My thumbs are skin-colored, if you know what I mean. I enjoy the garden, but it doesn't seem to return my affection.

Still, I garden. And the meager produce that comes out of it is enjoyed by my family. Don't get me wrong, I'm not blaming the garden for it's stingy offering. I take full credit. I do just enough to get by. I'm sure we all have areas in our lives where we do just enough to get by. Mine is the garden.

Like I said, we do enjoy whatever produce comes out of the garden. This week it is beans. Pretty, aren't they?

What you see is the price of procrastination. Two nights ago I visited my garden and noticed that there was about a meal's worth of green beans ready to be picked. They were long and green and lovely. Something else must have distracted me on my way to the house to get a bowl for picking because I didn't return to the garden that night. But I went tonight and picked the beans... half eaten!

Bunnies.

Cute, furry, cuddly, greedy, vicious bunnies.

I know it was the rabbits that rudely gnawed off half my beans because I have seen an abundance of them in the yard lately. And to think I was sad today when my son told me he threw a rock and barely missed a rabbit's head. I was horrified to think he may have hit it. Now, not so much.

Again, I must take full credit for the condition of what was to be a fresh addition to a family meal. Had I picked those beans as soon as I knew they were ready, the rabbits would not have gotten the chance to munch on them. They could have at least finished their meal. Bad manners!

Earlier, as I picked what was left of the beans, I noticed some lettuce that is ready to be harvested. I didn't take the time to pick it because I had a couple of other things I wanted to do. Read a book. Walk the dog. Sort some laundry? Anything but the lettuce. Perhaps I'll go out first thing in the morning to pick the greens. Right at the crack of dawn. When the rooster crows. While the dew is still on the grass. Maybe this time I'll beat the bunnies.