Gardener's Anonymous

This is my front yard yesterday afternoon.  You have to love bulldozing in the rain.  This is a huge mess.  It will probably get worse before it gets better.  We are putting steps to the backyard, and having some retaining and drainage work done.  Then the driveway will get fixed.  Mary wishes we could paint it Robin's egg blue or Viking's purple again, like two years ago (long boring story about the driveway debacle).  It is just gonna be asphalt, like it should have been all along.   Mostly the project is all a big excuse for me to buy some more flowers.

Some of you may have read in the Household Post that I was in charge of the Deerwood Elementary Plant Sale Fundraiser this year.  This is true. Delivery day was yesterday.  We sold over $10,000 of hanging baskets, geranium tubs, annual flats, perennials, and countless other flower, veggies and fruits.  My preliminary estimate is that the school made around $3500.  Cool.

You may be wondering if this was putting the mouse in charge of the cheese.   Perhaps.  I did my share to make it a successful fundraiser. . .in more ways than one.     I am sore today.  I am poor today.

It is this time of year when I find myself driving out of my way to stop by the Linder's parking lot flower mart.  I'll only stay a minute.  I've been hoarding my cash all year.  No one else will know.  I can shred the receipts.  Just one more pack of lobelia.  Then I'm gonna be SET.  Never mind that the studio recital is Sunday and I have myriad things to do to get ready and get my own kids ready.  I will just work outside for 20 minutes.  Never mind the rain.  Yes.  I can limit myself.  My next student won't mind if I have dirt under my nails for her lesson.

Researchers say addictive behavior is hereditary. I doubt it. My Grandfather was a farmer.  Just because he planted some 10,000 trees and had four gardens doesn't mean he had a problem.  My mom and I go green house hopping.  Just because she occasionally buys more than she can handle doesn't mean she has a problem.   She could stop anytime.  I could shop--I mean--stop anytime.  I mean--if I needed to.  If I thought there was a problem.   It's just a couple little flowers.   Really.  After this little driveway project, Bill--we're gonna be set.  I promise. . . no more lobelia.  No more Saturday nights at Gerten's Greenhouse. Please don't leave me. . .