A Reluctant Gardener.

I am a reluctant gardener.  Never have I been a true dirt digger. Instead, my preference is to pay someone else to mow, weed, mulch and do any other menial task relegated to the care and maintenance of the yard. Getting dirty is not my thing.

Others say that gardening is the key to life.  Mom says it keeps her sane as she deals with Alzheimer's. My neighbor says she goes into a Zen meditation whenever she gardens. My husband says it it fun.  Whatever. All I know is that at the end of a gardening session, I'm hot, sweaty and dirty.  Generally, there are new mosquito bites and scratches on my skin.

Regardless, I garden. In fact, I'm the driving force behind gardening at our house.  "Hey kids, let's put on our shoes!" has replaced getting ready for work or reading a book. Hmmm. (Sorry Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland.)

Why do I garden? To keep the peace with Mom, to keep the yard looking pretty, and to ensure all is well in our little world. In other words, I garden because I have to. And I'm getting pretty good at it.