I don’t garden. I don’t enjoy gardening.
I hate getting dirt under my nails. I hate gardening gloves because there always seems to be dirt or something else gross inside. Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl.
And I always manage to hurt myself when I try to garden.
Its just not my thing.
Growing up, however, my mom loved to garden. Almost half of our backyard was dedicated to her garden (I think it is still that way). She grew so many things, and they all grew so well. . . they still do. And she has lots of little garden figurines and decorations at things. During warmer weather we would have to wake up at 7:00a.m. for “weeding parties” where mom’s massive garden was divided up into sections and each of us was responsible to weed our assigned section. It was joyous fun.
You would think that her love of gardening would have rubbed off on me just a little. Or that maybe I would have had a little hint of green on my thumb.
But that’s not the case. I am really good at killing plants. Really, really good.
I tried to grow a garden last year. My tomatoes did pretty well. And I got a little bit of squash. The green peppers never got much bigger than my little finger – and we won’t even talk about everything else. I’m sure it doesn’t help that the soil around here is horrible – or that I detest weeding. Or…
So, with our house up for sale I figured that I should replace our flowerbeds full of 2 year old wood chips with something with a little more curb appeal. So I buckled down and purchased 8 bags of Top Soil, some Miracle Grow Plant Food (with weed preventer) and a bunch of random flowers.
When I went to the greenhouse I had the following conversation with the guy working there:
Tina: “Hi I need some really low maintenance flowers with lots of color. Oh, and they need to be able to grow in crappy soil and survive amid the roots of a quaking aspen.”
Guy: “Ok. What kind were you thinking?”
Tina: “Honestly I don’t care. We are selling our house and I just want to get some color out there. I don’t really want to have to do anything.”
Guy: “And you want to plant these now?”
Tina: “Yes. Is that a problem?”
Guy: “Well, we aren’t past the freezing yet”
Tina: “I guess I don’t have to get them out today. Like I said we are trying to sell our house and I was just hoping to get some color out there soon.”
Guy: “I have some that are pretty tolerant to cold. They’ll survive down to 28 degrees.”
Tina: “Great. Let’s see them.”
Guy: “Well, there’s [these daisy looking things] and [these little pink flowers], or you could try snapdragons.”
Tina: “I did snapdragons last year, and I killed them.”
Guy: (shocked look on his face)
Tina: “Is that a bad sign?”
Guy: “Um, no not necessarily.”
Tina: “I shouldn’t be allowed near plants”
Guy: (polite chuckle)
Tina: “No snapdragons”
I proceeded to purchase the daisy looking things and the little pink flowers. Sorry I don’t remember what they are called.
Bridget and I spent most of that day outside digging, pulling weeds, arranging dirt, and planting flowers. It felt good when it was finally done. But then I looked at the other flower bed and started to cry. Not really, but almost. That flowerbed is going to get a new layer of wood chips. No flowers.
In any case, the flowers are planted. Here’s what it looks like two days after being planted (right before the latest snow storm). I figured I’d take a picture before they all die.
I even bought this nifty little butterfly thing.
What do you think mom? Proud? Or maybe ‘shocked’ is a better word?