Dirty Feet

(A post originally from my myspace blog. Original post date: June 12, 2007)

Okay, so I just got in from working outside, weeding and watering, and I don't know why I bother. I love getting my hands and feet dirty, working in the soil. It makes me feel connected to the earth and God.

But SERIOUSLY! Why does nothing at my house grow...except for trees? I've got trees trying to establish life in every possible inch of soil. Darn things. Who knew it was so easy? I'm amazed people are upset over the rain forests being chopped down. And Arbor Day...plant a tree?!? Just head over to my postage stamp sized yard and you will see that trees are doing just fine. I probably have the cleanest air this side of the Mississippi. I have a tiny patch of sunny area in my backyard in which I attempt to grow a sad garden each year and these two blasted trees keep growing right there, blocking all the sun from my garden. And the trees are, technically, on my neighbor's property so I can't just run over there with my chainsaw. (Okay, I don't have a chainsaw...but if I did.) And despite this, I really love trees and feel I am a tree-hugging-hippy.

What doesn't grow? Well, Brian and I have planted bushes in front of our house at least three times. I finally had some lovely boxwoods that were established and they up and died this year!!! Turns out it was because I salted my sidewalks this winter. So it turns out I can either risk my life (and the postal carrier's) by walking down an icy sidewalk, or I can have nice shrubbery.

We have planted grass every spring for 10 years and it grows in the cracks of my sidewalk but certainly not in the areas I intended it to grow. I never knew it was so impossible. And then I see other people throw down seed and...voila...in two weeks they have a lucious, green lawn perfect for frollicking in. (And sometimes I drive by and they are, in fact, frollicking just to taunt me.)

My tomatoes have the blight. They have had it every year since 7 years ago. If you don't know what the blight does I'll tell you. It crushes your spirit. You have beautiful tomato plants growing tall and strong with yellow blossoms everywhere. And then the brown spots start, caused by a fungus that saps the life out of the plants and saps a little of my soul every day. All I want out of a garden is fresh tomatoes. You know that big, fat, red, juicy, still warm tomato you bring in from the garden, wash the dirt off, slice up, stick in your mouth, juice runs down your chin and you are in Heaven kind of tomato? Yeah, I want that. And I want tomatoes for salsa and tomato sauce and just plain tomato canning. But, that's not for Lisa. I don't want other people's stinking tomatoes! I want my own! I want the fruit of my own labor! People are always so sweet when they hear about my problem. They say, "Oh Lisa, I have far more tomatoes than I can do anything with. Why don't you come help yourself?" Oh, how nice for you that your tomatoes are so FERTILE AND PRODUCTIVE THAT YOU CAN'T POSSIBLY USE THEM ALL!!!! Oh what I wouldn't give to have that problem. Let me just wallow in self pity. But...every year I try again.

My hostas shrink up and die. I accidentally killed my lavendar plant. Brian axed my delphinium (sp?). I tried to grow cucumbers for three years. I had one little chubby cucumber, or as I called her, "Hope." A squirrel grabbed it, ran up the tree, ate two bites, and threw it on the hood of Brian's car. Ah well, I admired the little bugger's spunk.

I just never imagined that keeping the homestead looking nice was so much work! We just sort of suck at it. No wonder my dad was dragging us out of bed at 7:00 AM on Saturdays to get out and weed. It seems like it takes a small army of children to keep a yard looking nice.

I suppose I'll keep trying though my heart will keep breaking. And even though having a green thumb is not one of my gifts, I'll try to be thankful for my others.