My Sacred Heart

I have had a lot of gardens in my lifetime.

They started out small because of lack of space (ie: I couldn’t afford any space).
“I think that window ledge looks like it could hold a crop of corn. Oops. Sorry Mister. There’s a farm growing up here. Better not walk under there in the future.”

They got larger, and multiplied, and became more ambitious (again: the pocketbook issue),
“I know. I know. It is important how many bedrooms a house has, and walls should ideally be insulated, but I’ve looked at the comps, and having all the kids bunk together for warmth until they’re 18, seems like a reasonable trade-off for the land, don’t ‘ya think?”  

One of our last gardens was actually ‘several’ gardens on a three acre property- a veggie, a shade, a wild flower, an English, a cutting, a hillside, etc.,
“Oh no. There are trucks here again. Kids! Where’s your mother? beepbeepbeep Holy Shit! That’s my Fiat! Where is she?!”

I was solidly in my glory (la de da de da I’ll be in the garden and will not be available la de da).

My sister has joked for years that she could never have me as her ‘power of attorney’, exercising her end-of-life decisions, because I’d just pull the plug if it interfered with a plant sale (not true- mostly),
“There is hope. A new drug can be administered by weeks- end and cure her.”
“But it’s Garden Plantarama on Friday doctor. P-L-A-N-T-A-R-A-M-A!”

My children have learned that when they call, if their father tells them I’m in the garden, they just ask for a call back,
“Never mind. I’ll just talk to her when she’s dead and buried. Next to the roses. Those damn roses.”

Ben doesn’t even blink an eye, anymore, if I tell him I can’t make a corporate function because bushes need to be transplanted,
“The old ‘hole digging’ line again- eeh Cheryl?”

My doctor begs me to hire people to do the heavy lifting.

Our cats just give up hope of a dinner bowl if they see me knee deep in mulch.

You get the picture.

But gardening stills my restless nature (I’m restless. Isn’t that cute?), gives me hope for the future (so their saying smoking three packs a day is bad for you?), provides the opportunity to feel like I’m doing something worthwhile (’cause I usually don’t) and lets me be alone with myself (this one actually Rocks).

Which is a good thing ’cause the celery is about the only thing left talking to me…

But that’s just fine…

They have a tender heart.
Sacre Coeur
‘Scared Heart’
garden ornament
in the center of Asian-type celery stalk tops.

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  • Home and Lifestyle Design - Gardening is good for the soul! Enjoy! The fertile ground in New Orleans is a extra special gift to a gardener. My husband once said he could spit out a tomato seed in New Orleans and watch the plant grow in front of him. I love the gardens in New Orleans. Would love to see some photos of your gardens.
    Thanks, PattyReplyCancel

  • Stephanie Sprenger - Tee hee…tender hearts! And ah, a life in gardens. Love it. I hope to do more with it someday- we have a vegetable garden that is doing ok, but I envy my mother’s gorgeous backyard full of flowers. Someday… when all our children are responsible for their own bodily functions!

    • A Pleasant House - I used to put a playpen next to the garden (or in it) and putter away! But I understand where you’re coming from. It is harder with little ones under foot. PS: ALL of our kids have grown-up to be gardeners themselves!ReplyCancel

  • Kerry B - I. would totally make my kids bunk for a big piece of land. I. love gardens, gardening, harvesting….it all! jealous of all your gardens…cutting and shade- yumReplyCancel

    • A Pleasant House - LOVE your expressive comment. I SO understand you- can hear your voice! Of course you understand. Nice to have a soul mate!ReplyCancel

  • Ajule - I always gain something positive from reading your posts, and today was no exception. See, I never before knew of Asian Celery! Those green leafy tops make me want to pluck a few and pop them into my mouth…. Thanks!ReplyCancel

    • A Pleasant House - Well, aren’t you a sweetheart (get it- a sweet heart?) It’s so nice to hear that someone is learning something new! Guess that must be the ex-teacher in me. HahhahaReplyCancel

  • Sue - My mom was like you. Always outside in the garden. Each day when I came home from school she would be in the front tending the periwinkle or trimming our odd-looking ornate bushes. Her mom, my Grandma, was one of the “Best Gardens In Town” people. Ha, she also often had mud on her knees! The Good Earth.ReplyCancel

    • A Pleasant House - Lucky you to have two such women in your life. My grandma also was known for her fabulous garden, my mother, on the other had, had a BLACK thumb and couldn’t grow a thing, so I started a garden when I was around 10- Mom paid for the supplies.ReplyCancel

  • Rich Rumple - I remember George Carlin’s album called “Toledo Windowbox” that came out in the early 1070’s. It wasn’t corn growing in his. lol I admire people that enjoy yard work. I was never able to get into it myself. I simply admire air conditioning too much. Music is my vice (with over 125,000 songs now downloaded), and I spend hours of time maintaining the library, adding new titles, and making mix cd’s for those that want them. It’s my way of being by myself. We all have to have it. Good Post!ReplyCancel

    • A Pleasant House - I actually saw Carlin perform once at a small venue in Mayfield Heights, Ohio. OMG was he funny, and clever. It was when his ‘the words you can’t say on TV’ was just becoming popular. What a genius. My husband is more like you with the music. I’m the one in the dirt- of course. Thanks for stopping by Rich!ReplyCancel

  • William Kendall - In regards to the pulling the plug and interfering with a plant sale… might it depend on the plant sale?ReplyCancel

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