Posted on June 12, 2004 at 10:25 pm
Confession time: I’m a gardener. This is inconvenient during the summer because my fingers are never quite clean enough to handle light coloured yarn, so I avoid it. My nails have enough dirt trapped under them to germinate those pumpkins your mother always said could grow in your unwashed ears. I’ve tried the scraping-your-fingernails-over-a-bar-of-soap trick, but I hate the sensation of trying to weed with big lumps of soap trapped under my nails. I have nail brushes and surgical gloves and gardening gloves and pumice particle soap and orange hand cleaner and good old LAVA, but still, my hands are just a little bit discoloured. And lately, I’ve been a sunburned filthy mess getting ready for this very weekend. Because I agreed a year ago to let a thousand strangers file through my yard and critique my plantsmanship. A year ago, I didn’t know that I was going to be knitting a pale sage green linen sweater right about now and really want to keep the weeding to a minimum. But it’s for charity, so I let them in anyway.
Anyway. Here’s a reasonable picture of the perennial border, and my cat, Simon, who spends most of his summer days languishing in the opium den that is the catnip, or Nepeta x "Six Hills Giant" to the gardeners in the group. At eighteen years old, he deserves it.
As for me, I’m exhausted.
No knitting to report, because today, I am a gardener.