by Melissa Avery

Created on: May 20, 2009   Last Updated: October 26, 2009

"What am I doing?" I had asked myself for the umpteenth time as I knelt in the red Georgia clay of my new yard. My family finally has a permanent place to call home and I decided to do some improvement to the rather neglected outdoor space. What was I thinking? I optimistically ignored the fact that I have a brown thumb and have, in the past, even managed to kill a cactus.

The ground was still wet from a series of rain showers over the weekend, which softened the usually rock hard clay. I pulled weeds and grass, swatted everything from mosquitoes to gnats and kept an eye on my three year old whirlwind while she happily picked "Candylions" for her Daddy. My clothes were sticking to me like wet toilet paper does to a shoe and sweat was making grimy streaks on my face. Furiously stabbing and twisting the ground with my muscle powered tiller, I couldn't help but wonder who in their right minds would find this relaxing or rewarding. That was just the first day. " I can't believe people do this for fun!" was a revolving thought in my head during what seemed the endless days of an early spring full of digging holes, kneeling in mud and suffering through the suffocating stench of bug spray. I also had the luck of stumbling into a patch of poison oak that hadn't leafed out yet. It turns out I am highly sensitive. Lucky me!

It's now almost summer. I have watched my Daffodils, Crocus and Tulips bloom their brilliant riot of colors, then fade. Now I see the red and white of Day lilies and the yellow of Zinnias taking their place. Scarlet streams of Mandevillia blooms climb our outdoor garden bench and the yard is almost Dandelion free (thanks, baby girl!). My Hostas have grown in their spaces like the weeds used to and our various Roses add their subtle scents to the already fragrant air. I am proud of our new yard and of all the progress we've made.

Thanks to Mother Nature, good Georgia red clay and a lot of digging, weeding, mulching and fertilizing, our gardens are beginning to take form. It will take a few more Springs and a lot more perennials to fill everything in and make a true flower garden. At least now, four months later and eight pounds lighter, I can see the worth in the work I've done. I may never find the Zen state that some gardeners achieve in their various plants and plots, but I have found satisfaction that even a brown thumb can see hard work bloom.

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