Planting a Garden Becoming a Beatle
As the sun beats down in a pretense of summer I am off to conquer new skills, connect with mother earth, and have seven birthdays with thirty five people.
The last garden I planted was in 1981. I had just bought a house in Brantford that had previously been owned by a delightful Italian couple. The back yard hosted a large garden, several fruit trees and flowers everywhere including roses climbing one wall of the house. Oh the joy, the excitement, the whole ‘Green Acres’ of it all.
Yesterday I posted on genes and traits and all things lacking so you must already have come to the conclusion that though not listed, but definitely not present is the gardening Mother Nature gene.
I tilled the garden (truth be told a neighbor tilled the garden) but I was with him in spirit. I planted every veggie possible in straight rows and each night went to bed with dreams of sugar plums ..I mean baskets of healthy fresh veggies in my head.
At first it was pure joy watching and watering seeing life literally spring up. Then the nightmare began, the torture, the exhaustion, and the work.
First came little nasties called weeds, then the birds (the original cast of the movie I think) that perched on my rooftop awaiting noisily the fruits of my cherry trees. Then the roses showed their true evil character spreading wildly and generally making a mess of themselves. And the grass, no matter how often mowed kept growing. And the nicely trimmed huge hedge raised it’s million little arms…trim me trim me they cried. And green things of all sorts crept up between patio stones.
So all of a sudden my dreamy summer days of coming home from work and reclining on my patio in the midst of beauty became hell. Getting home I would change and head outside always trying but never conquering or even becoming one with nature.
The garden came to fruition and no matter what else existed in the world it had to be picked, blanched, canned, frozen, immediately. Immediately! And I had no idea that those few seeds I planted would turn into enough for a small country.
My brother and sister-in-law moved to the country this year. My youngest sister decided we, who live in apartments, should each have a portion of the garden to become one with nature and plant. We’ll see. Since 1981 my love affair with Mother Nature has been at a discreet distance.
Tomorrow my friend Donna and hubby are hosting a joint birthday party. Hers, mine, my daughter-in-law and four others, all Gemini and all this weekend. Here is where the Beatles come in. You know their song, When I’m Sixty-four? Yup that is me. And it seems that just yesterday those digits were reversed. But that is another post. Seems Geminis in the first week of June are a prolific as those veggies.
So in one hour..planting – again, shopping and then THE PARTY!