Weed garden

    I want a weed garden. I suspect that I have always wanted a weed garden. I like the flowers I see trailside or along roadsides. They aren't wildflowers exactly. They're mostly really just weeds. (This whole wildflower thing is getting silly, though. I don't know about other states, but in this one, on interstate medians, you will sometimes run across something badged as a Wildflower Test Plot. Well if you PLANTED them, they aren't WILDFLOWERS, are they?! Sorry; just me being a hairsplitter.)
    Today I was walking down Old State Road, which is the sort of thing you do on a solemn anniversary when it's even less socially acceptable than usual to get goofy on Facebook and was crazy mad loving the weedflowers-- wildweeders-- whatever. Also digging on the butterflies, although when they used me to play Ring Around The Rosie, I was not best pleased. Then I saw a lovely butterfly (since tentatively identified as palamedes swallowtail) on a lovely purple wildflower (tentatively identified as tall or giant ironweed, I swear to heaven also known as Iron Butterfly) and my course is set. I must have a weed garden!