Non-gardeners Have Not a Clue July 2001

As I stand here and deadhead the old-fashioned rose (the Japanese beetles have just devastated it).  I can’t help but remember  our recent visitor.

We were expecting our youngest that morning; however, she never gets here ’til about noon so we opted to work in the shade garden for a while.  I left lunch simmering on a back burner and John and I went to work.  I fully intended to quit and come to the house before Beth’s arrival’ however she got here earlier than I had planned, therefore, she found us in the garden.  It was just right for working outside -overcast, damp and a little cooler — and so much needs to be done.  The weeds are doing well with all this rain, but I refuse to complain. I well remember the past two years without rain and I’m keeping my fingers crossed in hopes we don’t have that drought period again this summer. On this particular morning we decided to “pot up” some plants in preparation for our fall plant sale.  We’ll have natives such as sweet shrub, beauty berry and hearts a-bustin’.  We were potting Hellebores when our company walked up and spoke.  Of course, we were hot and dirty.  After exchanging pleasantries, we closed up the potting shed with its myriad of chores and headed for the house.  Usually our youngest is very talkative and wants to linger in the garden and talk; however, this morning she seemed unusually quiet – actually paid more attention to the dogs than she did to her parents.  She joined me on the golf cart and we did a quick tour of the shade garden on our way to the house.

As we set the table and were getting lunch on the table, she could wait no longer and finally let me know what was bothering her.  “Mother, y’all don’t have to sell plants — we’ll get some money together for you,” she gently remarked.  The very idea!  She thought we were destitute and had to get plants ready for the sale because we had to have the money.  Now our daughters are both career women (living in the city at that).  They don’t have a clue about how it is with our style country living.  We love potting up the plants and seldom is there a visitor to our garden who leaves empty handed.  As long as there is  market and our health allows, why not have a plant sale?  That way we can finance our gardening habit.

Our male bluebird — what a beauty.

We I finished my snipping at the rose bush and started the spray job, I was reminded that non-gardeners have no idea the joy gardeners receive from showing off the results of their work.  Just yesterday I weeded in the shade garden and got so hot and dirty — the perspiration (just like sweat) ran down my face and burned my eyes and I wiped it away and kept pulling weeds.  On completing that job, I stood and looked over the “cleaned-out” bed with the nicest feeling of accomplishment. I wonder where the career person gets that feeling.

To add insult to injury for the worrying visitor, John remarked that we had sold the “saved” drink cans and now have a place to park the golf cart.  She asked if we picked up cans on the side of the road!  Of course not, but as soon as I picked up on this, I remarked “We got to eat out that day and didn’t have to wait for our checks to arrive.”  I do believe our youngest is ashamed of us doing these things.  Could it have anything to do with our “raisings?”

I assured Daughter # 2 that we were not missing any meals and do the potting because we enjoy it.  Sure,. we get hot, dirty and tired — but have the best feeling after a hot bath, crawl into clean clothes and then go back to look over our accomplishments.  Gardening is how I get my exercise and a few thrills as well.

These girls just don’t understand — Daughter # 1 wanted to help us with the septic tank bill or the hospital bill we encountered with Spot recently.  They’ve forgotten that John Crumly can squeeze a nickel ’til it turns into a dime!  We appreciate their kind thoughts but we are still able to support ourselves — at least for the time being.  This is how it is at the Windy Knoll; however, our career-minded daughters don’t have a clue about how it is with our style of country living.