When we moved almost two years ago, I had no intention of working outside. I’d been married for 50 years and never had to tend a garden. The problem was, we ate most of our meals on the screened porch overlooking the previous owner’s flower garden. It wasn’t too bad the first summer, but the next season it was a mess. I had to look at it, sometimes three times a day. I was told all I had to do was to keep the weeds down, but how would I know what was weed and what wasn’t? They don’t come out of the ground with tags saying, “Pull me.”
I began going out there, discarding what I thought looked ragged. I had the loyal support of three master gardeners, two of them right next door. If they had a mission of making me into a gardener, they had an uphill fight. I doubt I’ll ever consider myself a real garden woman, but I’m beginning to wonder. We had been away from home for six days. Within one hour of unpacking the car, I found myself in the garden dead-heading the roses and looking hopefully to see if any of the seeds I’d planted had sprouted. Sounds like the gardening disease had gotten me. Further, I was inordinately pleased to see leaves identifiable as four-o’clocks and nasturtiums. It’s too late to return to my former state, isn’t it?
Mehrling Muse 
Yes!! You’re hooked! Glad you’re home safe!!
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That’s what I was going to say too, well the “hooked” part anyway!
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Yes, I was hooked. Some nasty weed got its prickers on my arm, and the rose thorns hooked my wrist. I went out the very next day to pull more weeds! I don’t know. I’m beginning to think gardening is a disease. Maybe, just maybe, when I don’t say things like that, I’ll be a real gardener.
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Yes, you are doomed!
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I try to garden, but our house isn’t as open to view the garden as yours seems to be and I tend to forget … Poor plants.
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Goodness! I think you are blessed! My plants chide me silently for hours every day. All they have to do is hunch over a little bit, and I’m on a guilt trip. Even without looking, I know those delphinium seedlings are begging for water. I’d better go tend to them right now.
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I’m a gardener. There is something so satisfying about it. Plus I can’t get bored because the season always stops, giving me a chance to get excited and interested again.
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Once in a great while I feel satisfied that I have won the temporary war against the wicked wisteria. That feeling doesn’t last as long as the soreness in my arms. I’m so glad your garden brings satisfaction. I could envy that. Happy gardening!
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It’s never too late…except maybe for weeds.
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I think you have become an avid gardener. Please come to visit me. I could use a dead header around here. 🙂 And of course the weeds….. the never ending weeds. I can offer you a private room and meals! 🙂
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I don’t know about avid. Ignorant is more like it. There is no telling how many good plants I might have pulled while leaving weeds.
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