The Gardener

My father-in-law came over this morning and mowed our lawn. I didn't ask him to, he just did. He may have been feeling some second-hand embarrassment for us (our lawn-mower is busted and our yard looked like the one in Honey, I Shrunk the Kids), but I know he mostly just did it out of the goodness of his heart. He's one of those people.

So then Sullivan and I spent our morning out there; he sat in his sandbox and rode his tricycle while I read a book. It was so relaxing not having to worry about losing him in a clump of grass or having him eaten by a lioness who could conceivably be lurking nearby in that jungle of a backyard. Bless you, Marty.

So then, I was looking around myself at all of the dirt and empty space where the previous owners had probably planted things and I thought, "I should be a gardener." I pictured myself picking stuff and eating it, not having to make so many trips to the grocery store, having people walk through my yard and say, "You have such a green thumb, Suzy!" It was a great daydream.

I would go to the store! I would buy seeds and gardening tools! I would have a bountiful feast on the supper table by the time Barclay arrived home from work tonight and I'd say to him, "Look at the fruits of my labour! I grew this all myself!"

And he'd say, "Even the spaghetti?"

And I'd say, "Yeah!"

So I got out my phone and started Googling. It was exactly like the time I wanted to make croissants from scratch and Googled croissant recipes.

This one looks decent. What does this entail? Hm... Wait, why do I have to leave the dough in the fridge overnight? I want croissants today. New recipe. Seriously? This one too? Okay, what do they mean, "laminate the dough"? What do they mean, "pliable but not cold"? Why is this recipe fifty-four pages long? New recipe. Why are they all like this? Different Google search: Easy, fast croissants. Nothing. New Google Search: Croissant hacks. Nothing. 

I never ended up making my own croissants, by the way. I went to the grocery store and got those canned Pillsbury ones. They're delicious anyway, and take approximately twenty minutes from start to finish, grocery trip included. Someone else does all the work, I do all the eating.

...Much like vegetables.

Maybe I'll plant some tulips and call it a day.