by Barbara Walker

Created on: August 20, 2009   Last Updated: October 23, 2009

When I proclaimed, to my husband, Tom, that I was going to plant a vegetable garden, I was hurt at his reaction. A raised eyebrow, a questioning look, as if I were out of my mind!

"What"?", I asked, incredulously. " You think I can't do it?"

"Well, look what what happened to the house plants", he reminded me.

I stared out the window, remembering. Hanging plants, beautiful Charlies and Spider plants, given to me by a friend. One by one by one, I'd killed them all. At first, I thought that I had over-watered them. So, I cut way back on the water can. By the time I figured out that I had cut back too much, they were all dead. Pathetically dead. I tried to console myself, by making note of what a very hot summer it had been. This time would be different!

"Yes, I remember, but now, it's Springtime! The time of new growth, birth and growing things! I've already decided what I am going to grow. Tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, watermelon, green beans, carrots and squash!" I said, enthusiastically.

"That's not a garden, it's a farm! Can't you just start out small this year? Plant just one or two vegetables?" asked Tom.

My look said it all.

"How stupid of me! You never do anything small!" replied Tom.

I chose to take that as a compliment. "Thank you, honey." I said.

Tom just rolled his eyes.

Two days later found me at the garden store. I agonized over the choices. I finally decided to buy one plant of each of my vegetables and seeds for the rest. Then, it was off to pick out the soil preparation and manure. After, loading it all up on a huge cart, I realized that there was no way it was all going to fit in my car. I called our friend, Mike, who had a truck and explained my predicament. He laughed, saying he would be at the store in twenty minutes.

I waited out front, visions of a bountiful supply of vegetables in my head. I pictured myself wanting to make a salad and instead of having to drive to the grocery store, I could just walk out my back door and pluck the wanted vegetables from my garden.

I must have had a dreamy smile on my face, because when Mike pulled up, he said, "You sure look happy!"

"Oh, I am, Mike! My garden is going to be great!"

What is it with men and the raising of the eyebrows? I thought to myself. "What, Mike?" I asked.

"Huh, well, I was just thinking about all those houseplants you had", said Mike.

"This is going to be different, Mike. It's Springtime!" As if that explained it all.

I felt if I was going to garden, I needed

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