Monday, 8 July 2013

Thoughts on gardening



Since moving back home from university and finding myself drastically unemployed, I have unexpectedly found myself filling my days with all kinds of domestic duties. The newest (and most surprising) chore that I dabbled in is gardening.

Okay I will admit that I did stand in my garden, trowel in hand, completely clueless as to what I should be doing for a good few minutes before my mother pointed out that digging was probably a good start. A while later, looking like I'd had a fight with a mud bath and lost, twenty sunflower seeds had been sown and watered (considering we don't have the biggest garden in the world, I have a horrible feeling that my parents are going to wake up one morning to a sea of yellow).

So, what did I make of this green-fingered malarky? Let's see...

I guess it was kind of satisfying. But relaxing? I think not. By the time I'd completed my Garden Force endeavour I was a sweaty mess and had soil under my fingernails and in my hair. I think if I'm going to use any domestic skills to impress a man I should probably stick to the kitchen.

Don't get me wrong, I am incredibly proud that I managed to weed, dig and plant my way through the garden. And who knew I was such a genius with a watering can? But then you have to WAIT. I only planted the minuscule seeds yesterday and I'm already staring into flower beds wondering why I can't see anything yet. I am not an impatient person. I just want to see flowers NOW.

A friend of mine suggested that I should talk to my little planted projects. He was more than likely joking (or he knows that I'm crazy enough to try) but I have heard that this is a thing in the crazy world of gardening. I'm curious to know what you are actually meant to discuss with a pile of dirt. Do you comment on the glorious summer weather, offer words of encouragement or read out excerpts of Cosmopolitan? As a budding horticulturalist, I will gratefully receive any advice on the topic.

However, after endless weeks of waiting I am guessing (and hoping) that the end result will an array of cheerful looking flowers having been watered, nurtured and invited into stimulating conversations. Then I am sure that it will all have been worth it. Either that or I will have moved onto bigger and better things. Like tree surgery.