Gardening: It's Just Not Natural

Ever since I was old enough to pine for a place of mine, I began dreaming of the garden that would go with it. When I finally got my first place, I was told by the landlord that I couldn't plant anything. And so began my potted plant collection. Or should I say mortuary. As my mother was fond of telling me, plants need water. She happens to be a garden landscaper, so I tend to trust her advice in these matters. The problem was I never remembered to water them.

Finally the day came, a place that I owned. I could plant whatever I want! I turned to my mother with my wishlist in hand, only to be told "no". I could have no plants. I couldn't be trusted. Until there was an irrigation system in place that would ensure the livelihood of the plants, I was forbidden from planting. But I was sure I could do it. I would be better. I would be so faithful about watering my plants. So I forged ahead and bought and planted my first bed. It is here that I would like to make a formal apology for the massacre that ensued.

So, time went by. Finally the day came that I could afford sprinklers! My mother gave me the planting green light and we began scouring the wholesale nurseries for the perfect color daylilies, the best agaves and the most vibrant cannas. And we planted. And planted. And planted. (A 15,000 sq ft lot may seem like a blessing, but it is really just a lot more work)

Here it was, my garden! Nature at it's best. Flowers and foliage and beauty. And my first weeds. Teeny tiny little green sprouts everywhere. Apparently they were benefiting from the regular waterings as well. I labored for hours on my hands and knees pulling out each and every stem until it was perfect. Mission accomplished.

My mother came over the next morning and announced to me that my beds needed mulching. I'm sorry, they need what? What about the very expensive irrigation system I had just installed for them? And the hours of weeding? And what the hell is mulch anyway?

Which led me to this thought as I spent the last 3 hours "mulching". Gardening is just not natural. Correct me if I am wrong, but I can't remember ever seeing any depictions of Mother Nature loading 8 heavy bags of mulch from the Home Depot into her compact SUV. Or obsessively yanking any stray bit of green that doesn't "belong". I mean, I thought this was a cathartic activity. Don't old people garden? I guess I always envisioned enjoying my garden whilst sipping a cup of morning coffee, but every time I go out there now I see more work. The spots I missed when I mulched. The new sprouts that pop up every day. The sprouts that still haven't popped up from my new bamboo but should have. The dry area that my very expensive irrigation system seems to be missing.

People say it gets easier and I can only hope and pray that it does. Especially for the sake of my lower back. And my fingernails.