Gardening by the Yard

How much responsibility does one spouse have concerning the other’s hobby? Well, I suppose it depends on the hobby.

Among her many hobbies my wife has a flower garden. But I don’t know if that describes it. It’s more like a collection of colorful plants, many in pots, many in the ground. The grandkids call in grandma’s maze. I call it the Land of the Lost.

My idea of yard is a nicely trimmed lawn with no weeds. In our case, about a third of the backyard has grass which edges directly up to the garden. This makes it impossible to use any kind of weed treatment without hitting plants meant for growing in the garden. Mowing is difficult but not impossible if you have the correct philosophy.

Over the past years, I’ve drilled drainage holes and moved pots to their summer locations. I’ve dug holes to drop the plant in and even leveled and landscaped the area around the potting bench. Someday I’ll tell the story of the greenhouse kit I assembled. When she leaves for a couple of days, I water daily. On hot, sunny afternoons I even set out misting hoses. And above all I never ask how much money has been spent on garden supplies. That way lies madness.

But all of the obligatory assistance aside, isn’t it her hobby? I hate yard work. As far as I’m concerned the only reason we have a yard is because it came with the house. So I try not to feel guilty when she spends the entire day in the hot sun deadheading. She must enjoy it or she wouldn’t have planted all that flora, right?

“Say sweetie, those flowers next to you over in sun look gorgeous. Can I bring you another glass of lemonade? Just a thought.”

Don’t Hate Me Just Because You’re Beautiful

I was running errands today. First stop was the grocery store. After picking up my milk and cookies, I got in the checkout line. The checker was this incredibly beautiful, young blond girl.

She was totaling up groceries for a customer ahead of me who was wearing (in my mind) a ridiculous cowboy hat and obviously flirting with her. Well, she was having nothing of it. She went about her business barely even looking the man in eye.

When my order came up, she again barely looked up from her register and made no small talk. In keeping with the mood I said barely more than answering whether I wanted paper or plastic.

I then realized she probably lives in constant exasperation regarding the men that try to flirt or even just get a smile out of her. It must be a strange kind of curse being attractive because it brings constant attention that a person doesn’t want. As a defense mechanism they learn to ignore people even who are just trying to be friendly. I wonder if this makes it even more difficult to develop your own friendly personality.

Now, contrast this with the barista I encountered during my later stop at the coffee shop. She was an attractive brunette, only slightly above average. While I waited for my order, we not only discussed the hot weather but how it affected the shop’s sales. And I gave her a good tip.

Maybe grocery checkout folks should work for tips too. It’s a thought.

Who Is He Talking To?

Not too many years ago, when you saw someone walking down the street talking to himself, you figured he was crazy and a person to be avoided. But these days its not so easy to tell if the guy is crazy or just talking on his cell phone. Of course he may just be pretending to have a cell phone.

I have a cell phone but I text more than talk with it. Now, I’m not making any comment on mental illness. My wife is constantly asking me what I said to her and it was just me sorting things out aloud. Maybe this is why people cross the street away from me when I’m walking. Hmm.