This blogmania won't let me go.
I have GardenRant to thank for this. They've got it going on, and I learn alot by keeping up with their rants.
Thing is, though, I feel like they were my rants first! I mean, I covered a lot of the same ground when I was writing a column for a couple of local small town newspapers, things like plant blindness and the effects of garden chemicals on amphibians and bad mulch and the politics of small engines, and anything else that makes gardening less than the clean blissful euphoric chore it should be. I was supposed to be writing a gardening column, at least that's how I sold it to the editor, but let's face it, some gardening subjects are done to death. I mean, I dutifully covered crape murder, and the seven principles of xeriscape kept me going through the winter. But there is so much else to discuss!
For the record, I am a professional gardener, which means I get paid to do it, which is because mama and daddy wanted a professional something in the family, and gardening is a profession even if it's not medicine or law or teaching. If I were independently wealthy I would garden for free, but since I am a gardener I am not wealthy, so-o...
Hence the name of this blog. Since I spend a good part of my time on my hands and knees, I am not without attitude. Usually, it's good. Digging and pulling and pruning is peaceful work, no one bothers me much, and I can get lost in a micro world of leaves and insects. Towards the end of summer, though, when the heat index is in the hundred 'teens every day, I do get my surly streaks. And having to stop for groceries after I've been soaked from sweat or rain is humbling. A sense of humor is most important when you're in a public place with dirty knees and fingernails. I keep wanting to design the perfect-for-me tee shirt that would say something like "pardon my dirt, i'm a gardener" or "stand back - gardeners stink" (not that I do, usually) on the back, so the person standing behind me in line will understand.
I've been wanting to write again, and don't always want to jump in to GardenRant's conversations, so maybe this is the best way to get it out of my system. Today is a clear, cold and windy winter day here in North Florida, and I have some free time on my hands. Here goes!
I have GardenRant to thank for this. They've got it going on, and I learn alot by keeping up with their rants.
Thing is, though, I feel like they were my rants first! I mean, I covered a lot of the same ground when I was writing a column for a couple of local small town newspapers, things like plant blindness and the effects of garden chemicals on amphibians and bad mulch and the politics of small engines, and anything else that makes gardening less than the clean blissful euphoric chore it should be. I was supposed to be writing a gardening column, at least that's how I sold it to the editor, but let's face it, some gardening subjects are done to death. I mean, I dutifully covered crape murder, and the seven principles of xeriscape kept me going through the winter. But there is so much else to discuss!
For the record, I am a professional gardener, which means I get paid to do it, which is because mama and daddy wanted a professional something in the family, and gardening is a profession even if it's not medicine or law or teaching. If I were independently wealthy I would garden for free, but since I am a gardener I am not wealthy, so-o...
Hence the name of this blog. Since I spend a good part of my time on my hands and knees, I am not without attitude. Usually, it's good. Digging and pulling and pruning is peaceful work, no one bothers me much, and I can get lost in a micro world of leaves and insects. Towards the end of summer, though, when the heat index is in the hundred 'teens every day, I do get my surly streaks. And having to stop for groceries after I've been soaked from sweat or rain is humbling. A sense of humor is most important when you're in a public place with dirty knees and fingernails. I keep wanting to design the perfect-for-me tee shirt that would say something like "pardon my dirt, i'm a gardener" or "stand back - gardeners stink" (not that I do, usually) on the back, so the person standing behind me in line will understand.
I've been wanting to write again, and don't always want to jump in to GardenRant's conversations, so maybe this is the best way to get it out of my system. Today is a clear, cold and windy winter day here in North Florida, and I have some free time on my hands. Here goes!
1 comment:
clWelcome back, Ernesto. I have missed your clear and clever writing. Perhaps you should forward the blog to a few friends and customers. I am sure Libby would appreciate it,and share it around, and how about Mr. Lewis. Just tell him The Sidekick suggested it........SK
Post a Comment