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With one amusing exception, I have not been, and never will be a gardener. Forced to weed our vegetable garden as a child, gardening implied an odious chore. My wife, however is the greatest ... having fed our growing family very well with all the usual hard work, pleasures and disappointments common to gardeners. I would help her whenever she asked ... but otherwise it was sacred ground, not to be meddled with!

SPRING

We had just moved onto our new farm, and needing a garden ... my wife requested that I take the tractor and break up some grass sod near the house for the garden. I ended up making another plot that was way too much for her needs.

When she saw I was making more garden than she wanted, she called out to me, "We don't really need that area plowed up. Why are you doing so much?"

I was a bit keener than usual, and asked, "Would you mind if I were to try growing something using the extra garden plot?''

"Only if you don't grow the same things that are in my garden ... I already have enough of everything! But, if you do try something ... you must promise to keep it weed free...!" She knew how little effort I'd be putting into that garden. "Seeding it will be the easy part!"

Thinking for a moment, I asked, "So ... just what should I try growing?"

"That's your problem, you figure it out!"

I checked the seed catalogues, and in no time had the answer. There were neat things there ... like popcorn, peanuts, catnip, and such. I had no idea these would grow in our northern climate, but the seed catalogue claimed you could.

Merrily ploughing back and forth in my new project with the tractor, I soon had the extra plot done to my satisfaction. A bit stony, rough, full of grass roots ... but it was mine.

As I was carefully planting the last of my precious seeds, I noticed my father coming over to see what I was up to. I was a bit embarrassed, dad finding me gardening. I had always put up such a fuss about having to help him as a child, even though I knew now how important that garden produce was to our family at the time.

"I hear you're putting a garden in!" He laughingly said. "What all are you planting?"

"Oh, just the usual." I muttered back, secretly hoping he'd just leave it at that. I groaned as I saw him pick up the empty seed packets.

"Do you call THAT a garden!" was my father's loudly voiced opinion. He laughed, adding, "That's just ridiculous, you haven't grown anything worthwhile. It's not even a flower garden!" He turned and walked away. I think he was still talking,

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