Where’s Waldo the Weed?

Let’s play a little Where’s Waldo? Waldo the Weed.

I could’ve called the plant Mary Jane. However, I went with Waldo for the search aspect that’ll become clear anon. This plant suddenly appeared in the stretch of soil outside my apartment.

It was a surprise – and not for the assumed reason.

It surprised firstly because things do not grow outside my apartment. I live on the ground floor. I’ve planted things. Nothing takes. It’s a sorry barren stretch of land with one indestructible plant that looks like a cross between an ice plant and a weed, a handful of seasonal bulbs and patches of clumpy grassy weeds.

Strange thing about it is that it’s the only stretch where plants won’t or don’t grow; plants around the rest of this rather large building do just fine, even thrive. Further evidence and confirmation that my gut knowingness is spot on: There’s something sickly, toxic and draining about this apartment. A bad juju in the space and its soil that cannot, does not and will not sustain life. In fact, shortly after I moved in and began noticing things, I’d sorta joke: “Things come here to die.” The truth in humor …

So yeah, given all that, I was pretty wow! when Waldo the Weed suddenly sprung!

The source could be a seed brought by the wind. Or, if it’s indeed dope, a seed fallen from an apartment above. Or more likely a friend of one young, particularly partying neighbor.

Or a passerby. See, I do live on the ground floor in an edgy neighborhood where druggies and derelicts and do-no-gooders roam. They pass by. Occasionally they hang on the, um, grass outside my window. Including in the middle of the night, which can range from disconcerting to alarming. On more than a few occasions I’ve awakened to evidence of another’s nocturnal presence: cigarette butts, an empty beer can or two, a takeaway food container or bag, so a seeding remnant from a baggie or joint is no stretch of imagination.

However it got here, when I spotted Waldo, naturally I immediately thought of the fun weed:

but it could also be your pesky everyday garden-variety weed that looks like ze dope, ze cleome for example:

Despite its obvious presence, I opted to do nothing except let it grow, check on it and see what develops, fully expecting its short lifespan  due to (a) the passersby, (b) the groundskeepers and (3) surveying landlords.

I was right:

Waldo is no more. My wee new greenery is vanished, gone to pot! So where is Waldo?! I am bummed. And I say show no mercy to the culprit who ripped this tender young sprig from the soil! Nab him for he should be {wait for it} stoned!

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1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Karyn @ kloppenmum
    May 23, 2011 @ 16:53:12

    Poor Waldo. Hope he’s gone to a happy home. 🙂

    Reply

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