|the lettuce patch|
I hate gardening. I've spent all morning planting. The soil had already been prepared by hubby. I just had to plop in seedlings. Even so, I worked enough to remember why I hate to garden:
- the dirt--It's disgusting. My gardening gloves are ruined. Even washing them, they're never the same. Somehow the dirt manages to penetrate through the gloves and into my fingernails--and I keep my fingernails short. And (get this) when I went to take a drink from my water bottle, there was dirt on the rim. I thought it wouldn't bother me, but I could taste it and now my teeth are gritty.
- worms, snakes, nightcrawlers--They're disgusting. My garden is full of them. The thought did occur to me to put a BAIT sign in my front yard. Hubby says they're good for the garden.
- the sun--It's disgustingly hot. I was wearing a big straw hat so I wouldn't get sunstroke. But after awhile, my head was sweating and I felt like I was getting heat stroke.
- the bugs--They're a disgusting nuisance. It's May. Those little tiny gnats fly in clouds. One cannot even talk without a swarm flying in one's mouth.
- my knees--They're disgustingly dirty and sore. I suppose if I got down on my knees and prayed more, my knees would be in shape.
So why do I do it. I garden because it's a together thing to do with hubby. He likes it and he's an "old buck" and needs help.
And then there are the vegetables. There really is nothing like fresh vegetables. Since I hate to garden, I push myself to do it, and really do reap what I sow in more ways than enjoying eating the fresh vegetables.