I must admit that—even when the gardening trend was at it’s peak—I’ve never really cared much for tending the earth. It’s not that I don’t like flowers and plants; it’s that I don’t like taking care of them. There are too many other things I would rather be doing. For me, gardening is just work.
I used to feel like I was just doing my part. Steve mowed the lawn and I pulled the weeds. Then, almost two years ago, the lawn mower broke. I can’t remember exactly how this happened, but within a week, Green Horizons showed up with two guys, an industrial lawn mower and a weed whip. They have been coming once a week ever since. Yet I am still stuck with the flowers and weeds.
Some day when Steve and I have launched our kids into adulthood (will that day every arrive?), we will move to a condominium in the city. A home with a place for a potted plant will be perfect for both of us. We will be pleased to join the ranks of those who prefer container gardening.
This is a trend that makes perfect sense to me. With huge houses on small lots the standard for suburban subdivisions, conventional gardens were already getting less space. And dual earner families, combined with the chaos of overscheduled kids (and their parents driving non-stop), meant that lots of those home owners had less time to plant, then care for, a garden. Also, our increasingly sedentary society seems much more interested in learning about celebrity chefs than it is in bending over to pull weeds.
To be honest, I am not interested in chefs or weeds. I’m interested in reading. I’m interested in traveling. I’m interested in taking a refresher German class and learning to play the guitar. But more than all of that I’m interested in finding someone who will come and take care of my bushes, flowers and plants. I hope I will be successful before the end of the summer.