Caring for a garden is an interesting thing.
A garden takes a lot of effort. A decent amount of time, more fussing than you’d think and surprisingly a little bit of worry. At times — amidst all of the other necessities of life — it can seem daunting and a bit like a chore. Okay, maybe a lot like a chore.
But it’s also the chance to do something that doesn’t immediately get undone (ahem, dishes). A chance to watch something grow and even flourish.
Because once you set to work — hoeing, weeding, etc. — it’s a little magical.
Yeah yeah, I know. I’m being melodramatic. I got that look from Nick when I told him the same thing. But I truly think that, for me, gardening is God’s gift of therapy . A form of meditation. And an opportunity to get my hands dirty.
I am by no means a “green thumb.” Among my family it’s actually kind of expected that I will kill any and all plants. Lol. But I’m learning.
And it’s a good thing too. Because if this whole #operationblantonfarm thing is ever going to take off, I’ve gotta seriously up my farm wife game. ;)