How does your garden grow?...

This weekend was less than delightful for a variety of reasons:

First of all, there was the weather - it rained most of the weekend. There was some nice weather Saturday morning, but Sunday was a complete waste.

I missed my annual outing with the girls. Every year on the first weekend of June, my girlfriends and I go to the local art fair downtown. This year we had to pass because... I believe....they are on vacation together. I didn't' realize how much I look forward to this event. Not only is it a chance to hang out with my friends, it keeps me in touch with those creative impulses of mine that usually get repressed for more pressing everyday chores.

Our power went out on Sunday. Just as Nathan and I were going to settle in to a nice rented movie. Fortunately, my parents still had power, so I guess you could say that we went out to a movie this weekend.

The biggest reason this weekend was a drag for me...gardening. During the time I should have been spending looking at overpriced artwork and agreeing with my girls that "We could do that" I was instead on my hands and knees pulling weeds and planting flowers.

I HATE gardening.

I do it because I only have to plant flowers once a year and my yard looks really pretty for months. However, it is a day that I dread every year, here is why:

• Dirt - you don't get a little dirty when you garden, you get really really filthy. Dirty to the point where you itch all over and you don't know if its sweat, bugs or both. I hate being dirty.
  
• Bugs - I hate bugs. My neighbors must has been pointing and laughing because I screamed at least five times while I was out there (3 toads that startled me, one spider on my back and a tree branch I didn't see until I ran into it).
  
• Knees - my poor, poor knees. My flowers are in a raised bed surround by brick blocks. Looks nice in the yard, not indented into my knees.

It doesn't matter how much I stretch out prior, my body is sore for 3 days after gardening. Near the end of my flats of impatiens, I realized that I was talking myself through it like a marathon runner..... "Just a half flat left to go...you can do it!"

My mother gardens beautifully, my mother-in-law even more so. Her gardens are amazing, a true master gardener who obviously loves working in the soil. I look at people who love to garden with the same curiosity as people who love running.

Gardening...is obviously not genetic.

If Hailey is going to learn to love to plant, it is going to have to be taught by someone else than me. someone who doesn't scream every time a bee buzzes past or break out in hives at the thought of gardening gloves.