Once I enjoyed other people’s gardens rather than producing my own. Through necessity I’m now getting my hands dirty and gaining pleasure from the results. gardening sin’t so bad after all.
I’m not really a gardener. There, I’ve confessed! My parents weren’t gardeners and I inherited their lack of interest. It’s not that I don’t like gardens, I simply enjoy the finished product, produced by someone else. That is, until about a week ago. The saying its never too late to change may well be true.
My husband, a keen gardener throughout our married life plants and grows magnificent gardens, both vegetables and flowers. With an expert on hand I’ve never had the need or desire to garden. In fact, on rare occasions when I ventured out, I always did the wrong things, so leaving the task to him became an easier option.
For the last year, however, my husband has been immobile and couldn’t get into the garden has been neglected. He knew my feelings and lack of knowledge, therefore didn’t ask for my help. You’ve guessed it, until about a month ago we no longer had a flower garden, we had a weed garden.
Our son gave half the area a good tidy up which looked good for about a month. But he became discouraged when, a month later, the garden was a weed patch again. Two weeks ago I decided enough was enough. We’ve always had a wonderful garden. The time had come for me to see what I could do.
With such an overgrown mess, it was easier to pull most things out and start again, rather than sort out potential flowers from weeds. My work began. I pulled, dug, watered and did all the good things I believed gardeners do. My husband, having responded to recent medication and feeling much better, came out and helped a little.
Off I went to the garden centre to see what I could find. It’s summertime here in New Zealand and probably not the best time to be planting a new display of flowers. However, I came home armed with an array of potted colour, ready to transplant into my newly cleared spaces. I was ready for action.
To cut a long story short, I’m becoming a gardening convert. The garden is not back to its former glory, but it looks far less neglected now. My husband has just had a knee operation and so will hopefully be able to get out and join me before too long.
I’m enjoying long summer evenings, still too hot to sleep, out watering and enjoying the results of my efforts. Since clearing the weeds in most of the garden, existing things are starting to flourish. Our lemon tree is even producing fruit for the first time. Forgotten flowers have popped up from their hiding places, thankful for their nightly drink. I guess plants are cunning enough to realise if they reward me I’ll keep looking after them.
Maybe gardening isn’t so bad after all.
Published in: Gardening