The Rural Voice, 1999-05, Page 28LOVE'S
LABOUR LOST
In spring an addict's fancy
turns to thoughts of
gardening
•
Nowhere docs hope spring as
eternal as in the breast of a
gardener when the new seed
catalogues have arrived.
I had my nose buried in a
catalogue and my mind in a garden
furrow trying to decide between
Pontiac and Viking secd potatoes
when my daughter Hilary sat down
on the footstool in front of me. She
looked me straight in the eye and
said "One word mother — potato
beetles".
"That's two words" I protested,
"and what on earth are you talking
about?"
"You told me last fall that if you
ever again considered planting
potatoes in the garden, I was to say
'potato beetles' to bring you hack to
your senses."
"So what arc a few potato bugs?"
I retorted.
"A few?" she laughed — a touch
maniacally, I thought. "People
walking past our garden thought you
were developing a new species of
flowering plant, they were so thick.
"Well, maybe I had a few
problems with the potatoes", I agreed
dispiritedly. "But hey", I said more
cheerfully, "weren't those fresh peas
terrific? Maybe we'll put the whole
garden in peas."
24 THE RURAL VOICE
"OK," Hilary said, "time for a
reality check". She pulled her stool
closer and shoved a photo in front of
my face.
"What's this?" I said "It looks like
the junkyard Old Man Tate used to
have on the edge of town."
"You also told me that if you ever
decided to raise peas again, I was to
show you this picture and if that
didn't convince you, I was to lock
you in the bathroom until the fever
passed. You were very insistent at the
time — you even made me swear on
all your unborn grandchildren that I
wouldn't let you plant peas again.
Remember the trouble we had with
the birds and all the gadgets,
scarecrows and metal pans you used
to string across the garden to frighten
hem away. The only thing you
ared was the cat. He left home and
never came back until the garden was
dug up in the fall."
"How come you have such a great
memory for all of this," I grumbled,
"when you can never remember to
take out the garbage for the 30
seconds it takes you to walk from
one end of the kitchen to the other?"
"Still," I agreed reluctantly, "I
guess you're right about the potatoes
and the peas. Instead, we can redo the
garden with smaller vegetables.
By
Sharon
McGregor
Remember the taste of fresh salad
veggies and carrots right out of the
ground? And think of the money
we'll save."
Hilary got that look again and
handed me another sheet of paper.
"You told me to be sure and show
you this if I still hadn't convinced
you. See that list of expenses —
derris dust, cutworm powder,
nitrogen, fertilizer, new garden hose
to replace the one you cut, repairing
the hole in the toolshed, sprinklers,
tools, scarecrows, tilling, etc. You
said this list was the reason we
couldn't afford to go to Disneyland."
I sighed. Of course, she was right.
Gardening is like having a baby:
shortly after the birth, you forget just
how bad the labour pains really were.
Selective memory is the only thing
that keeps women propagating the
species and prevents all homeowners
from paving their backyards.
I closed the catalogue reluctantly,
but as 1 tossed it aside, the heading
on the back caught my eye. "Roses,
roses" it proclaimed. Now how much
trouble can a few rose bushes be? I
began to tremble with excitement. I
could have the whole garden area
reworked and make a little
cobblestone path and surround it all
with trellises and trellises of roses.0
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