Nothing beats getting your hands dirty
- Laura Moore: Housebroken
- April 11, 2023
- 538
Being a gardener is something you love doing or something you’re just required to do. I was born a gardener and am happiest when I’m outside pulling weeks, trimming bushes and just digging in the earth.
Once as a young child we lived for a couple of years in a place that provided all the landscaping and yard maintenance needed. There was no place for me to have my own garden. To make up for that I filled some pots and boxes with good soil and set up a nursery in our basement. It had small windows and was very dark, but it was the only place available.
I planted my seeds, don’t remember what they were, but in a matter of a few days I had shoots showing in every pot and box. Those shoots grew and soon became nice-sized plants. There was an oddity about those plants. They weren’t green — actually they had no color. My folks were shocked, but my grandmother, who was visiting, wasn’t at all surprised. “Your child has a green thumb and everything she plants will grow,”she told my folks. I was delighted with that news. However, for quite a long time I kept an eye on my thumb but it never did turn green.
That gift has lasted all my life. Everything I plant does very well, which over the years has resulted in more gardens than I can now care for. Our children are grown and now have their own gardens and Taller Half has no interest in yard work, preferring to play inside with his railroad layout.
The lack of gardening help inspired me to have a brilliant idea. This year, the garden beds are being replaced by garden pots. We will have pots for tomatoes, for beans, flowers, berries and herbs.
The old garden beds will morph into grassy knolls with one or two boasting a tree, perhaps an apple or cherry tree, in its middle. How is that, for a lovely way to solve my problem?