by Carol Nissenbaum

Created on: May 31, 2008   Last Updated: June 09, 2008

My most humorous gardening misadventure was also my most embarrassing! We had just bought our house, and I was thrilled to finally have my own backyard. I was determined to become a world-class gardener, although I was squeamish and not fond of bugs or worms.

One afternoon, I set out to garden. Problem was, the grass was knee-high and the weeds were winning. I felt like Indiana Jones as I hiked through the underbrush, armed with my little hoe. A machete would have been better!

I settled in and began the arduous task of weeding. Sweat poured from my forehead as I labored in the brutal sun. I was NOT having fun. Suddenly, I saw a large pile to my right move. There was something lurking in my garden! Every hair on my arms stood at attention and I could hear my heart pound. I couldn't take my eyes off the pile, which suddenly moved again! I broke into a run and charged into the house, screaming for my husband.

My husband came running (OK, sauntering) in. "Whatsa matter?" he asked. "There's something out there!" I screamed. "I saw it. I saw it!" He wasn't convinced. "Yeah? What did you see?" "I don't know, but it's out there and I'm so scared!" I was hysterical at this point. "Calm down," he advised. "I'll go check it out. You stay here." Right, like I was gonna go back out there! "Be careful," I said to my warrior husband. "Don't worry," he replied, snatching the ridiculous little garden hoe from my hands. "I'm armed."

I peeked fearfully out the back door as he went out to kill (or at least poke) his prey. He fearlessly made his way over to the pile that had moved and stood observing it. I prayed it would move again, kind of like when you bring your car in to the mechanic because it's making a noise and then it doesn't make the noise for your mechanic and you feel like an idiot. But I digress.

Wait - there it was - THE PILE WAS MOVING. "AAAHHH!" I screamed. "Be careful!" I was terrified at this point. What WAS this thing? "I'm going in!" my husband said. I couldn't look. Suddenly I heard the terrifying sound of...laughter? He's LAUGHING? What was going on? "Come out here," he said. "NO!" I insisted. "You have to come out and see this horrible creature." I wouldn't budge. "OK," he said, "Lemme show you." He reached down into the pile, appeared to struggle with whatever it was, and finally emerged with...a tattered black Hefty bag! "Here's your critter!" He was doubled over with laughter. "I think it's dead now." I was mortified. "Well, it LOOKED like an animal under all those leaves," I protested. "Sure it did."

That was the beginning (and end) of my illustrious gardening career. My husband still teases me about it to this day, 15 years later.

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