Why isn't gardening like housework?
So much of gardening is tidying and sorting and cleaning. There are odd more creative bits, like when you're sowing seeds or picking crops, but the stuff you actually spend most of your time doing always feels to me like the same sort of activity as housework. In fact, it ought to be even worse than housework because the weeds and plants grow at rapid rates whereas most housedirt only accretes. Even the black mould in my bathroom doesn't grow more than a few millimetres a year if untended.
Some housework is quite satisfying, if I'm in the right mood. But most of it is, at best, a chore I can do while thinking about more interesting things. But gardening makes me happy and satisfied. I don't really think about other things while I'm doing it, so it's mentally restful and meditative. It's particularly lovely on a beautiful sunny day like today, when you can feel the sun beating on your back as you dig and when you get tired you can sit on the bench in the sun and shut your eyes to listen to the birds. But I also love it when it's cold or windy or just grey.
I don't think I've done a whole afternoon's gardening since before PB was born. I got so much done and it feels as if the garden is half way to being reclaimed from the wilderness it has become. I weeded, dug, hoed and raked the veg patch and sowed a lot of veg and salad leaves. I weeded a bit of border which had turned back in to lawn and sowed cornflowers and night-scented stock. I sowed lots of brightly coloured things in the Psychedelic Border. I transplanted a lot of self-sown primroses from the herb garden into a big tub, which has the double advantage of making the tub look good and (hopefully) preventing the neighbours' cat using it as a litter tray. I (belatedly) pruned a few things and planted a ceremonial rose (which unfortunately is called 'Prince's Trust', but it was the only fragrant red climber I could find at my local garden centre). There was a lovely couple of hours when all the other members of the household were inside asleep (even the cat) and I enjoyed having the garden to myself. And then there was a lovely couple of hours when everyone was out with me, all pottering round, some more helpfully than others.
And then supper included a salad of overwintered leaves and new growth herbs and a pudding of the first of this year's rhubarb stewed with orange juice and a vanilla pod (fantastic. Definitely one of my desert island desserts).
Now if only I could develop the same feelings about housework.
Some housework is quite satisfying, if I'm in the right mood. But most of it is, at best, a chore I can do while thinking about more interesting things. But gardening makes me happy and satisfied. I don't really think about other things while I'm doing it, so it's mentally restful and meditative. It's particularly lovely on a beautiful sunny day like today, when you can feel the sun beating on your back as you dig and when you get tired you can sit on the bench in the sun and shut your eyes to listen to the birds. But I also love it when it's cold or windy or just grey.
I don't think I've done a whole afternoon's gardening since before PB was born. I got so much done and it feels as if the garden is half way to being reclaimed from the wilderness it has become. I weeded, dug, hoed and raked the veg patch and sowed a lot of veg and salad leaves. I weeded a bit of border which had turned back in to lawn and sowed cornflowers and night-scented stock. I sowed lots of brightly coloured things in the Psychedelic Border. I transplanted a lot of self-sown primroses from the herb garden into a big tub, which has the double advantage of making the tub look good and (hopefully) preventing the neighbours' cat using it as a litter tray. I (belatedly) pruned a few things and planted a ceremonial rose (which unfortunately is called 'Prince's Trust', but it was the only fragrant red climber I could find at my local garden centre). There was a lovely couple of hours when all the other members of the household were inside asleep (even the cat) and I enjoyed having the garden to myself. And then there was a lovely couple of hours when everyone was out with me, all pottering round, some more helpfully than others.
And then supper included a salad of overwintered leaves and new growth herbs and a pudding of the first of this year's rhubarb stewed with orange juice and a vanilla pod (fantastic. Definitely one of my desert island desserts).
Now if only I could develop the same feelings about housework.