I spent the early evening picking, one-by-one, the dead heads off of my geraniums. Who knew? I have been trying to have geraniums in front of our house for 13 years – finally, success!!! I listened to my book, sniffed the dirt-ish geranium smell on my hands and wrestled a full roll of toilet paper from Cally’s mouth without breaking a sweat. Inside, the boys were studying. Mike and Andy were working on football strategies for their upcoming spring league. And I was alone playing in the dirt. Who knew?
I always thought gardening was for really old, grumpy people. (Yes, I read and loved The Secret Garden a million times as a little person, but still . . . ) As I am slowly becoming an old person, I’m starting to get it! Unless you live on a farm, if you have a job and/or young kids, gardening is hard work. (Not to say that living on a farm is not work, but that’s kind of what you do on a farm, right?) Gardening is just another thing to do everyday and something to get done quickly and efficiently while tending to diapers, phone calls, sibling issues and the fact that your house is probably falling apart piece-by-piece like ours is. Now that my kids are older, I’m getting it. Who knew? Gardening is fun, relaxing and challenging at the same time.
These days, no one is going to starve if I mess around with my tomatoes or wander aimlessly while I consider additional parts of the yard as garden space. It’s been years since anyone has flooded the house or head-dived into a ceiling fan. I can goof around with the dogs while I contemplate the value of eggplant and luxuriate in the absolute beauty of overalls (really, clothing does not get more comfy or more functional). If all the boys are home, things might get loud in the house while I’m outside puttering, but, heck, they know more first aid than I do and they know my wrath . . . so I have time. If nothing else, they have the sense to clean up their messes before I come wandering, blind from sunshine, back inside the house.