I am what I am

My hairdresser opened my eyes the other day. I was paging through the Yellow Pages and clicking around online to find a good salon for my haircut. I stumbled upon a girl I went to high school with who sounded great. I booked an appointment.

I enjoyed catching up with her, hearing about her marriage to a classmate of ours, and her five-year-old boy. We were talking about home ownership, and I mentioned how much I detested yard work. She asked, "Don't you like gardening or anything?"

I sheepishly admitted, "No, none of it."

"Me neither!" she said. "I finally just accepted last year that that is just who I am. I hate gardening. I just don't want to do it. That's not me."

"I agree!" I happily exclaimed.

It was so freeing. It seems like everyone I know loves to garden. I feel like I am missing some brain connection that would drive me to dig in the dirt. It was wonderful to find kinship with another non-gardener. My mother and sisters garden and compare stories about their plants. My dad says yard work is a stress reliever. I couldn't disagree more. I love a beautiful yard but would rather someone else did the weeding.

I have tried to force myself to like it even going so far as buying flowered work gloves and forcing myself to pull weeds from the ground as I repeatedly checked my watch until an hour had slowly ticked by.

I don't think I am (entirely) lazy. I love to plan meals and cook. I don't terribly mind cleaning, and I keep my children happy and healthy. I am just a NOT a gardener, and I am OK with that.

--MM