There’s a huge difference between the two, not the least of which is: she calls hers gardening, I call mine yard work, with emphasis on the word “Work.”
Spring Has Sprung
She actually looks forward to this time of year. She’s already spying the bulbs appearing at the store and planning her inventory out. I look at the slow greening of the grass and think, “Oh Brother, I have to cut this crap every week for the rest of the summer.”
Love Your Work
She calls her plants her babies and actually talks to them. Her babies sprout in flower beds in the front and back yard and along the edges. Mine sprout everywhere else. My babies are the grass and my nemeses: the weeds. Though hers are pretty and plentiful, I have about 10 billion babies. When I talk to them, well, I can’t repeat what I say here.
Priorities
She expertly and lovingly picks out her seeds and bulbs while stylistically plotting out the layout. I recklessly conspire with the chemical industry on which poisons I’m going to use on those confounded weeds. While she nurtures and encourages her pansies and petunias, I contrive new ways to wipe crabgrass off the face of the planet, or at least my backyard.
Tools of the Trade
Her favorite tool is her pruning shears; mine’s a weed-whacker. That darn weed-whacker has gotten me in more trouble though. A word of advice; if it is not positively, absolutely, without any question a weed, then don’t whack it. If it’s in my domain, it is fair game but those flower beds enjoy more stringent protection than a Federal Wilderness Area. I made that mistake once—I still swear it was a weed—and will never hear the end of it. We now have no-whack zones that I steer very clear of.
Rotating the Crops
She meticulously plans out her flower beds so that, as one type of flower withers, others are just starting to bloom. I have a similar schedule: as the well-groomed Kentucky-Bluegrass hits its mid-summer peak, the crabgrass germinates to slowly choke out the good stuff. Her system works due to timing and selective planting. Mine works due to lack of proper poison control. Our plans for next year? Hers is more perennials, less annuals and mine is more chemicals.
Cost Analysis
I have complained so much about the expense of all these annual trips to the greenhouse for flowers that we finally had to come to an agreement. I am no longer asked to go to the greenhouse with her; actually a win for me. We still spend just as much, but I no longer have to push the little cart around with that stupid, bored look which comes so easily for me.
Differences in Approach
I have an Orbitz 4 valve-cast iron diverter on my backyard spigot with 4 digital timers flowing to a Truyard Master turbo sprinkler which shoots about 4 gazillion gallons of well-aimed spray over the expanse of my backyard. I have it scientifically calibrated to water each zone for 10 minutes, on a bi-hourly schedule rotating on odd numbered days to sequentially provide maximum efficient coverage. She trickles the hose over her plants every other day for 10 minutes.
Who Has the Green Thumb Now?
Just like our family cat, who has instituted a no-fly zone in the back yard with her “if it flies, it dies” policy, I have a “if it grows it goes” program for the rock gardens lining the yard. I have poured more chemicals on these rocks than an EPA Superfund clean-up site contains, yet the weeds don’t just grow, they thrive. I use chemicals with ingredients with over 27 letters in their names to no avail, yet I can’t get grass to grow in a bald spot I’ve been reseeding for 8 years. She can grow plants that don’t even belong in this climate.
Wait, There’s More
I forgot the trees. Since I’m the one who trims the branches, then spends countless hours chopping those cut branches up. I claim them as mine. They look great and provide shade for the yard, and privacy for the back deck. Then when September hits and my pride swells as “My Babies,” present their bountiful leaves turned to gorgeous shades of yellow and red, I look at them and realize, “Crap, I’m going to spend the next three weekends picking up every single one of those cursed leaves.”
