Saturday, May 16, 2015

Gardening? No Thank You. I’d Rather Clean the Bathroom

(I can't grow anything else but these are nice, right?)


There are few activities that I dislike more than gardening. Between the bugs, the dirt, the heat, and my aching back, it’s impossible to tell which I hate more. Combined with the fact that I’m rarely successful at growing anything that isn't a weed, it’s easy to see why I would rather clean the bathroom, go to the dentist, and call the cable company than engage in any yard work.

A large part of the reason that nothing thrives in my yard is due to the fact that I’m terribly inconsistent when it comes to watering plants. I start out OK in June, when the weather is still mild, but by July, I've lost complete interest in it. Honestly, is there anything more mind-numbing that spending an hour a night spraying plants with a leaky, drippy, hose?  

That's why in my yard, it’s survival of the fittest. To live here, a plant has to be able to survive without my assistance. I may be many things, but no one would ever accuse me of being a plant coddler.

The only flower I have any kind of success with is the day lily. I have tons of them in every color imaginable. They’re my ideal plant: they don’t need to be watered constantly and are tough to kill, probably because they’re really weeds at heart. No one has to water or fertilize their wild cousins that line country roads in a riot of orange color each summer.

Weeding is another problem. I can handle the weeds (sort of) in May and June, when they’re tiny little baby weeds, but not in July when they've suddenly morphed into Audrey from Little Shop of Horrors, complete with thorns and big teeth. By August, you need a hacksaw and dynamite to cut down those bad boys.  

Not to sound as if I'm bragging or anything, but my yard has more than its fair share of weeds. At one time, it used to be a field and has been committed to overthrowing my efforts in order to return to its natural state ever since.  By mid-summer, I’m inclined to let it, having had my fill of the entire gardening experience.

This year, in an attempt to choose the right plants for my yard and my ability, I've consulted with an expert on the subject. Even though he’s 17 and only works at the Home Depot on weekends, I’m quite sure the young man I spoke with knows what he’s talking about when it comes to gardening.

            “Can you please help me?  I’m looking for some plants for my yard.”

            “Ok, sure.  What sort of plants are you looking for?”

            “Oh, any kind will be fine, as long as it doesn't need to be watered and won’t die.”

            “Well, that certainly narrows it down, doesn't it?”

It’s at this point that I’m sent on my way with yet another day lily. Who knew that the kid at Home Depot was some kind of botanical genius?