Tink--nothin' to do but move down here (and help me in my garden:)!

I need a garden grunt desparately. The trouble is, free labor is hard to find these days. This is the time of year when I start saying to myself "What in the world was I thinking of when I put in all these beds?" For the next 6 weeks I will be constantly frantic "Ohmygosh gotta get that chickweed and those cranesbills outathere before they go to seedwhenwillIever have a weekend to haul mulch and compostcan't believe I have to go to work todaywhenitisperfect to divide those phloxifIdon'tgetthelettucewatereditwilldie--------deep breath---------OK, I know I have responsibilities to house, home, and familybutcan'ttheyjustleavemetogardenallweekendandforgetlacrossepracticeandbillpaying and Hey Dear, don't worry about all the doghair on the carpet, I'll vacuum in 6 weeks or so (If he wants it done he can do it himself muttermutter) and then suddenly----The old garden roses are in full glory with the peonies going to town in front of them and friends who are just as frantic come by to stroll through my gardens and renew themselves, and every night something from the garden is on the dinner plates. Beautiflly happy accidents of self-sown combinations manifest and the big flowers manage to cover-up where bermuda grass has invaded so I can pretend it isn't there.

THEN I remember what it was I was thinking when I put in all of those beds. I smell the good dirt and move aside the worms so they don't get sliced. The hummers show up and the baby rabbits hide under the echinacea. A three year old on a walk with her Dad stops and plucks a viola to her Dad's chagrin and my delight.

I just flashed on the thread on faith, to which I haven't posted because I just can't put it into words. But in essence, that is what gardening is. An act of faith and hope and the fulfillment of promise. Even in the bad years, I always know another good year will come along.

Janie