Kinda like a green thumb

But, mostly it's brown.

I'm not sure why I can't get into the gardening thing this year.

I usually love to garden.

It's rewarding, it's peaceful and relaxing, and it's a great work out all at once.

At least it used to be.

These days it's not proving to be so rewarding because everything keeps dying.

I've never been able to grow more than one pepper (and it wasn't even hot) in my garden.

Nor have I had success with anything else edible, so I've given up on that. Think it's something to do with the soil, but too lazy to really find out.

This was the first year I saw any action from the bulbs I planted two and a half years ago. It's been so long, I can't even remember what they are. Maybe you can help?


But, my flowering bushes, my lilacs, and my annuals, have always more than made up for the lackluster performance most of my other plantings have shown.

But, this year, even they have been giving me grief.

Partly, because I have been slow in planting them.

So, I decided to dedicate a morning to filling my flower boxes and maybe laying some down in the bed alongside the house. You know, 'cause I could use a little sense of accomplishment around here.

And, I thought that maybe #3 would like to help out. Well, his version of help which would be throwing dirt all over the porch.

Sounded kinda fun when I hatched this premature brain child.

Basically, he showed me that not only is gardening no longer rewarding, it is also not peaceful or relaxing.

He stomped on two of my marigolds.


He poured the watering can all over the porch (and, yes, I slipped in it).

He threw dirt all over the porch, and the table, and the chairs, and the walls, and me, and himself.


He tried to actually consume a mud pie. And when I tried to stop him, he did the stuff and run technique for which he is famous.


And, to top it all off. He decided to drop a dewey in the midst of it all so that I had to stop, track dirt into the house, and change his diaper.

But, on the bright side. He learned how to say flower (pronounced frower), he said "teese" (aka cheese) for every one of the pictures I shot, and I got an even better workout than I had initially anticipated.

Sadly, however, the day that started like this...


Ended like this...


Because mommy couldn't take it anymore and had to put him in the house to watch (and when I say watch I mean scream and kick the door) while I cleaned up.

Hopefully we have both learned a valuable lesson: Gardening is to be done during nap time.