It turns out a plant killer has a purpose in the garden
after all.
Weeds!
They cower when they see me coming. I mean it. I'm better than
any herbicide. In fact, someone should put my face on the bottle of how-the-heck-can-I-control-weeds-without-chemicals.
Last week, I went to the garden with my sister. While she
watered (life giving), I weeded (plant killing). After she finished, she said to me, “the garden
looks great. Look at all the tomatoes we have coming!”
Tomatoes? I’d been there an hour and hadn’t looked at a
single vegetable. It’s as if I only see the photographic negative of the
garden.
It sounds terrible, but it’s rather validating. I’ve always
slunk about in the shadow of my sister’s plant growing success. But it turns out
the green thumb in the family has no aptitude for a hoe.
Seriously. She’s always all about how the ground is too
hard, or the weeds are too thick. It’s never about how the hoer is too
helpless.
Since I can flat out turn over a row, it turns out she needs
me!
AND, I even managed to grow these!
Imagine my surprise when the first one came out of the
ground--like magic!
It turns out everyone has their place in a garden.
Where’s yours?
