I never realized that gardening, even container gardening, could be so all-consuming. Besides my energy and my finances, it seems that my very soul (such as it was) has been consumed by these paltry plants that sit in scrounged pots on my front deck.

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Finding places for them, giving them the things they need to grow, coping with them when they get sick or hurt – it’s like I’ve delivered triplets! The stress and worry, that’s what gets me. I tend to overthink or underthink, and either way it’s a bad job.

 

So I’ve got to be real about gardening – it’s not easy. You don’t have ‘a green thumb’ or ‘a black thumb.’ What you need is the will and wherewithal to put in the work and do the research, as well as a support system.

Yes, this is why all the gardeners get together and talk for hours about leaf mold and root rot – it’s a support system, a group of people who understand, advise, and occasionally trade seeds or hours of watering time.

Another interesting aspect of this reality is that the people who don’t have the degree of interest/desire/gumption to garden themselves do NOT ‘get it.’ They don’t understand what you’re talking about when you fret over heirloom varieties, and you often get the distinct impression that they don’t CARE.

That’s a real downer.

But I’m hooked, now, I have caught the grower’s bug, and I won’t give it up, no matter where I live or what my circumstances! Here’s another reality: Growing these plants from seed has given me a different outlook on the permanence (or lack) of my life, and the impression I have made. It has given me a new will and resolve to improve myself and my surroundings, and darned if that’s not a good thing.

My favorite ways to get seeds: www.amishlandseeds.com  ,  www.heirloomsolutions.com  ,  seeds of the month club

 

I have SO many ideas, plans, hopes and wishes wrapped up in tiny little seeds that might or might not grow…here’s to the future. May it be green.

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I woke up this morning as if I had been asleep all week, and maybe I was, in a sense. Straight up fact is not so forgiving, however, because it told me at about 12:30 that I had actually been avoiding all responsibility, work, and reality. The dishes were overflowing the sink, likewise the trash in the can, and the laundry in baskets. This is why I can’t have nice things.

Its regression, its stupid, and its ugly. Its not what I want. Its not what I want to be.

This begs the question “what DO you want to be?” (In my very vivid imagination, those word ring in a tone laden with annoyance, scorn, and exhaustion. I’m tired of my drama.)

Before today, I would say “I just want to be happy.” …well DUH! Who doesn’t want to be happy? Surely I’m not as stupid as I sound. Okay, Cheri, you made it from A to B. Can we try C sometime in this century?