Confessions of a Serial Gardener
Serial Gardener. I guess I'd define myself that way. Luckily for me, my parents let me have my first garden when I was about 3 years old. It wasn't very big, maybe all of 4 square feet in a corner of their vegetable garden, but it was mine. All mine. Even the weeds were mine, and there were plenty of those! That first garden is one of my first memories. That, and learning why I shouldn't put my hand on the lawn mower exhaust pipe after Dad had just finished mowing the lawn. OUCH!!! I wanted to use some of the words Uncle Harvey used, but Mom didn't approve of, but, Mom didn't approve of them and I didn't want to go to bed without my dinner.
Anyway, back to being a Serial Gardener. Not a Cereal Gardener. No Corn Flakes here, by golly. Possibly a corny joke from time to time. Maybe a bit flaky occasionally. But no Corn Flakes. No Fruit Loops either. I'm a Serial Gardener, and proud of it.
So, you ask, where am I going with all this. Well, keep asking, because I don't know. I'm just along for the ride. I guess I've just been needing somewhere to talk about my love of gardening, and the consequences of it all. You can read what I post. If you want to. You can even comment on what I have to say if you'd like. Or not. Whatever strikes your fancy. But beware. If you've got an empty patch of ground in your yard, I just may sneak over your way and plant something.