Danger lurks in the garden

Beware, Reader, lest you mistakenly take up gardening as a means of gentle exercise and perhaps even as a source of relaxation. All of which may be possible, depending entirely on your personality (I myself am a somewhat compulsive perfectionist for whom it is difficult to begin a thing unless I can be sure to do it just right, and am unable to leave a thing alone once the idea has taken root) (ha ha - a gardening pun!)


Turns out - and you may already know this - gardening is a hobby fraught... yes, fraught... with risk and danger. Here are a few things I've learned in the 8 days I've been a gardener (well, to be perfectly honest, there was that potted geranium I neglected to water last summer, but I don't think that counts)


You may get your heart broken when a plant you love dearly and have nurtured from a small seedling to full flowering planthood looses its hold on life and withers into a pallid version of its former glory. You may see wild weeds or selfish spreaders strangle your beautiful blooms. You may learn that 'full sun' means precisely that, non-negotiable, which is why your lavender or tomato is now less than vigorous after spending the season tucked under a douglas fir.


Always wear gloves. There are worms and other multi-legged things in that dirt! Not to mention dirt is extremely difficult to get out from under your nails, ruining a perfectly good manicure. (The manicure may have been months ago, but still, right?) I used to scoff at wearing gloves, but then I was also afraid to accidentally touch a creepy crawly. Last summer, though, I found a really cute pair of gloves, and am now perfectly fearless to dig like I have never dug before, amused at the spider scurrying over my fingers and smiling at the worm as I put it back in the earth. Oh, the power of the glove! Not to mention, digging bare-handed in the dirt can lead to tetanus. Yikes! Not entirely sure what tetanus is, precisely, but I'd like to avoid experiencing it firsthand.*

Another danger is that you may begin too enthusiastically. As in all new ventures, it is prudent to begin slowly - not only for the sake of your pocket book, but for your spine as well. Spending hours hunched over as you yank dandelions out by their scruffs, or as you uproot and replant the forget-me-knots and wild onions growing in your flower beds into more attractive arrangements, you will ache and be quite unable to stand upright the next day. You must begin slowly and work your way up to marathon sessions. Any athlete will tell you the same thing.

The greatest danger of gardening is the power it has to consume every waking moment, occupying all your thoughts, figuring in every conversation causing family and friends to natter on about short cuts and sumo wrestling in order to prevent you from discoursing on the finer features of mulch and fertilizer.

Despite it all, I am hooked. I'm longing to get out to another garden centre. There are more herbs to bring home, and a climbing thing to coax into climbing the side of the shed. I'd like to thin out the lillies we have, and add more colour. It's the May Two-Four weekend, the official start of summer and the traditional gardening weekend. Happy planting, all!

*I do know that tetanus is bacterial, and causes muscle spasms, like lockjaw. Ouch.