I love digging and playing in the dirt. It has always been a way to relax and has provided me with time to mull over my story conflicts and character development.My love for gardening was planted by my father. As a child, I helped sow seeds, pull weeds and bring in the harvest as soon I was old enough to trail after him.
I invested in my own property and the compunction to plant took over. Initially, I didn’t have enough space or sunlight to start a vegetable garden so I planted flowers.Now, we have a corner lot. All of it is edged in flowers. I don’t need a gym membership in the spring—with all the weeding, mulching and digging take care of the cardio and strengthening exercise!
Right now it’s easy to be the passionate gardener—my garden are bursting with color. Each day a rose or daisy or adds another hues to the mix.
In the mornings, I meander around the edges of property to survey the flowers of all the labor (oh come on, they can’t be the “fruits of my labor”—they’re flowers!) Just as my father got the smug, satisfaction of the worth of digging in the earth. I love it.
That feeling will disappear in a few weeks as I spend my mornings deadheading and weeding not enjoying the smell and colors of the many roses bushes circling the yard. Then I mutter about too many rose bushes and why do I plant so many flowers…but that is for another blog.