Gardening is, simply put, an
endeavor that a curmudgeon has absolutely no interest in. Zip. Get
one's hands dirty on purpose? I don't think so. The Curmudgeon Handbook
makes it clear that occupations that actually soil you are frowned upon
(changing your own motor oil is also a prime example).
But gardening deserves special
mention. When we first moved into our little cape, greenery abounded.
Great! thought I, the gardening is done! Hah. Not being
remotely engaged in foliage-related matters, I totally missed that gardening
was apparently desperately required.
Thus began a 30-year slog of
gardening, re-gardening and gardening again. That shrub has been there
for two years? Time to move it. Doesn't a "perfumed pocket
garden" sound right for that spot over there? Of course! I am
helpless to argue because "that spot" is currently green and
therefore falls under my "the gardening's done" umbrella.
When I do projects, there is
something called "done." Not so with gardening.
No comments:
Post a Comment