We’ve been doing a wee bit of gardening the past couple weekends and let me tell you what: That shit’s hard. Seriously, I don’t think I’ve worked so hard in all my life. You see, growing up, we had a gardener, so I never had to do anything like mow or weed or seed or till or…get dirty. Now, as an adult (heh) and homeowner, I am the gardener. (Okay okay, we all know that’s a lie; Chris is actually the gardener. I’m just the one standing there with a shovel going, “Okay, now what do I do again?”)
Yesterday, as I was scooping handfuls of mud off the blades of a roto-tiller that we’d rented to prepare what will (crossed fingers!) be a flourishing vegetable garden, I commented that if we ever have a daughter, she surely will not have to do this sort of work.
“Oh yes she damn well will!” Chris told me. “Hard works builds character!”
[I think I have plenty character without having done back-breaking yard work as a child, but whatever.]
“And anyway, you’re doing gardening work right now, soooo…”
Dammit, good point.
And I guess he’s right, about that character-building business. Although I didn’t grow up doing yard work, I did do my share of roofing. And installing a satellite dish. And crawling through the attic to install a ceiling fan. “Make sure you don’t touch the insulation!” my dad would call out, as I played balance beam on the rafters. So, I suppose in some ways, yes, those experiences made me the person I am, helped build some of this character of mine, and taught me that hard work is valuable.
That being said…
This morning, when Chris asked what else needed to be done, other than mowing and seeding and fixing the gate and…
I called out, “The wine bar! You promised me the wine bar!”
Ugh. I guess that’s the beauty of living back in an apartment building–no yard upkeep! Seriously, I can’t even remember to water our three plants ever…or feed the fish…
I hate gardening…..and getting dirty. That’s all!