Although I spend plenty of my free time digging in the dirt, I really do clean up before I come in to work. I don’t leave twigs in my hair or dirt underneath my fingernails. So I have no way of knowing how the woman I was interviewing the other day knew I’d be helpless to say no when she asked me if I wanted to see her garden at the end of the interview.
Well, no way except that we did happen to wander off the subject once or twice to talk about gourds and squash, but that could have happened to anyone.
So I toured her garden, which she admitted was more her husband’s hobby than hers.
I coveted the tomatoes and the nifty trellis system her husband built.
The pumpkins made me smile (and secretly wonder if he was giving them steroids).
His tidy rows of spinach and lettuce made me wish I had taken the time to plant them both in my own garden a few weeks ago, but that would have meant cleaning up the overgrown jungle that my garden has become.
Besides, who am I trying to kid? I don’t do neat and tidy in the garden. But I have to admit, this garden does look fab.
Even his morning glories are behaving themselves. Oh well. I can always dream of next year.