I’ve mentioned I hate gardening. But, strangely, I have found myself compelled to garden – stumbling toward the patio doors like a zombie, eager to tear out more weeds and get more bugs stuck in my hair. While gardening, I complain non-stop. Even if I’m alone. If I hate gardening, why is it so addictive?!?
Maybe because I employ these strategies:
- I reward myself with chocolate.
- I let gardening count as my daily dose of exercise.
- I remind myself that my backyard is an outdoor room, not a vacant lot I can ignore.
- I count the imaginary money we will make on the sale of this house, attributed to my weed pulling and bug flicking efforts.
- I compare my efforts with my neighbours’ and score our respective gardens. Gardening is more fun if I can “win”.
Right now I’m not winning. Well, I’m beating a few people. But you should have seen the garden when we bought the townhouse. Cats got lost in the thick weeds. Well, here’s a record of the garden today.
|In dire need of attention but an IMPROVEMENT|
|I removed all of the weeds from the patio.|
|Nice new patio furniture!|
On the bright side, the Lily of the Valley I “acquired” last year (one bunch I swiped from my grandparents, the other was mailed to me by my mother-in-law) both transplanted nicely. My absolute favorite flower.
|My front yard looks better . . .|