And though I garden in my leisure time, I have never considered gardening a leisurely activity. It is four hours in the sun (sometimes the rain), bending, digging, lifting and groaning. My fingers are stained, and there is mud under my nails.
I am so filthy when I am done gardening that I often change clothes in the garage rather than drag all that dirt into the house. Gardening isn't for sissies or for legendary fashion mavens.
And gardening isn't something you do because you don't have anything else to do. To a real gardener, that doesn't even make sense.
I will admit that gardeners come into being at certain times in the life cycle: after they buy a house, after the kids are past that self-destructive toddler phase, or after the chaos of family life has waned and there is a little more time.
And I admit that the better gardeners are the older gardeners - the ones who have learned from their mistakes.
And I will even admit that the best gardeners might be the ones who have retired from some other line of work, because they have the time to do things right.
But I refuse to accept any suggestion that gardening is something to do to fill empty hours. It takes too much strength, it takes too much knowledge, it takes too much determination.
God knows that gardening is not something I do because I don't have anything better to do. And it is not something I am saving for that day when I am a burn-out case and gardening is all I can do.
Gardening is something I would rather do.
David Remnick had it right, I think. Death is probably the one thing that would cause me to give up gardening.
