The Occassional Gardener

During the summer, I would go so far as to say that I hate (hate hate) working in the garden.

The following are among my list of complaints:

• It's too hot and I hate sweating.
• I don't want other people to see me squatting down or bending over in my "work shorts" (which may or may not be a little too short).
• The dirt gets in my fingernails (which really aren't that long to begin with) and remains there all day no matter how many times I wash my hands.
• There are bees and other bugs that dive-bomb me.
• It's a pain to keep unwinding and winding the hose, and attaching and detaching the sprinkler.
• The next door neighbor's cat often leaves little poopy "presents" for me, that I loathe cleaning up ... It's not my cat!
• The plants always look dead anyway (I wonder why!?) so I don't ever feel like I've accomplished anything.

While I could go on and on and really mean each one of them, all of these things seem to change the moment September rolls around. For some reason, after that point, all I want to do is dedicate my time to gardening. For instance, last weekend I planted flowers ... Perennials, new and old, were split, plucked, moved, and replanted throughout my front and back yards. Then, last night, I actually took the initiative and mowed the front yard, something I usually pawn off on my husband.

I don't know what it is about the fall ...

Maybe it's because the summer heat is fading and everything, for once, looks green and healthy and vibrant. Maybe it's because I like the idea of having a "fresh start," a time each year where the problems of the past are erased and whatever I do now can actually impact next year's appearance. Maybe it's because I want an excuse from grading papers.

Whatever it is, I wish I had this type of motivation all year round!