Why My New Flower Garden is the Perfect Way to Avoid New Things

I don’t want anything new in my life.

My wife Mary worries about me. She loves adding new people into her life and expanding hobbies and interests. In the past year she has become friends with six or eight women, taken up painting (which she is very good at), learned to cook at least a dozen new dishes, and researched the history of Charleston, South Carolina where her family goes back over two hundred years. She will say to me “You need to make at least two new friends this year, and learn to do a new activity for your spare time beside fretting about the state of democracy in the country.”

I tell her “I’m happy with the number of friends I have.” Last year before we went to Italy, I tried to learn Italian in the three months before we left and ended up with only basic greetings and words for certain pasta dishes and alcohol.” I have since said arrivederci to my Italian Dictionary Flashcards, convinced my brain can absorb no more. She was having none of it. So, I met the husband of one of her new friends at a party, and liked the guy. His name is John and he has spent his career as an international commodities broker specializing in aluminum, so we have a lot in common. We have lunch every couple of weeks.

So now, I must find a new activity to get Mary off my back completely. I have no interest in pickleball. I think my navigational skills with the speedboat we use is probably peaking, and as far as artwork goes, when my grandson Christian and I draw at his desk, his cats and trees look as good as mine. He is four.

Then one day I looked out in my backyard and for some reason envisioned a large flower garden.

I told Mary I was to become a gardener. For the past three months, almost daily I’m at Lowe’s, getting soil, at local garden nurseries buying plants and flowers, digging with my new tools, sitting on my foldable garden stool while I prune, going on-line to learn about soil, light, and manure. And I tell Mary everything I do. Everything.

I have planted twelve salvia flowers, three gaillardia, and a half dozen bright yellow flowers I have forgotten the name of.

And everyday I report to Mary the latest progress my garden has made. Plus, I bring her out to see the success’s and tell her of my hopes for adding more and more flowers as the years go on. I also show her the limbs I am going to trim to allow more sun on the garden. With pride, I tell my beautiful wife of fifteen years that I have named my garden “The Tie-Dye Garden” because all the colors run together with no apparent plan. I let her know of the angst I am having getting the watering right. I tell her of my dream to have a garden shed, if we can get it by the homeowners association.

And if a flower bunch doesn’t make it, I mention to her how I will try a different type of perennial better suited to my soil and light. When her friends come over I tell them all these things too. Because of the lifting of heavy bags of soil, manure, and all the digging, my left knee had become very sore and needed a cortisone shot. Recovery has been slow, and I  keep Mary up to date on my knee’s progress several times a day.

I think I have succeeded. I believe Mary will never try to encourage me to try something new again.

Bob Lacey