Gardening for Dummies

10/13/2009

There are so many talents I do not possess.  Most of the time, I don’t miss them at all.  I’ve never lost much sleep over the fact that I can’t juggle or do anything with yarn.  I can cook, but I can’t bake - something my mother makes look virtually effortless.  And just ask my kids about my drawing abilities – or lack thereof.  I can barely draw a circle.  I am not allowed to draw when we play Pictionary – ever. It’s a good thing I’m a good guesser, or I wouldn’t be allowed to play at all!  I try not to spend too much time focusing on the things I can’t do but rather on trying to improve upon the things I can do.  But deep down inside, there is one skill I wish I possessed every day.  I would kill to have a green thumb.  To say I have no talent for gardening is to be putting it mildly.  I have read books and asked friends and family members hundreds of questions about plants and gardening, but it goes in one ear and out the other.  My brain can’t seem to remember the most basic information about this stuff.   But in spite of the fact that I don’t know a geranium from a landscaping brick, I love it all.  Plants, flowers, wreaths, topiaries – love it, love it, love it!  However, when I try to plant them or grow them, they die 99% of the time.  Not a great record.  But I keep trying.

I always thought of gardening the way I think of doing craft projects – with terror.  Crafts, like scrapbooking or stamping, frighten me in ways I can’t explain.  Instead of feeling like “wow, look what I made!” I’m left feeling like I have 10 thumbs and angry at my lack of creativity. So many people I know feel like a trip to a craft store is like a trip to Paris and find joy and relaxation in sitting down for the afternoon with a bag of stuff and some glue.  I went to a scrapbooking party several years ago when my kids were young and I was home a lot and desperate for some down time and adult conversation.  When I got home, I made Wes solemnly swear that he would shoot me dead if I ever said I was going to one of those things again.  It completely numbed my brain.  But gardening has always called to me, if even in a taunting way. 

I have long considered myself to be a city girl.  I grew up in a city and I love city life.  We had a back yard with a couple of apple trees but we played mostly out front or in the neighborhood, which was concrete and asphalt.  Neither my elementary school nor my middle school had a single blade of grass growing anywhere near them.  But we had lots of plants in our house and I watched as my father tended to them constantly.  He put up shelves over the kitchen sink and a special light so they could grow.  I saw how he rotated their positions on the shelves or around the house so that each one got an even amount of sunlight.  I never saw one die.  They always looked healthy and vibrant.  “I can do that” I thought.  Boy, was I wrong.  My father would send me off to college each September with a plant for my room saying “It’s virtually indestructible.”  When I came home in October for Columbus Day each year, the plant was dead.  I gave up on gardening.

But, I have a house and it has a yard and the yard needs some help.  So, I’ve been giving it another try.  I started off by watching some gardening shows on TV but they overwhelm me.  I’m not looking to have a fountain or a pond in the yard.  I’m not looking for an outdoor kitchen.  I just want a little color out front and some sense of order and beauty in the back, which is rather sorry looking and boring.  As inspiration, I’ve been walking my neighborhood, looking for things I like and projects that I think we’ll be able to handle.  It’s tricky because I don’t know the names of anything, but I do know what I like.  Once I have my ideas, I call my nephew who tells me exactly what I need to buy at the garden center, what and when I need to do, and I do it.  I’m never even a little confident in any of my efforts, but I enjoy the process more than I ever would have believed.  And though our efforts in the yard thus far have been of the most basic variety, I’m happy enough with them.  Happy enough to keep trying at least.  “Home and Garden” magazine isn’t calling anytime soon, and that’s OK with me.  I’m just trying not to kill anything.

My mother always says that in her next life she’s going to play the piano and ride horses.  Both of those sound nice and I wish I could join her.  But I’ll be too busy out in the yard, tending to my beautiful garden.