cialis cheap face=”Times New Roman” size=”3″> As I sat thinking about what I would write for this article I suddenly realized that I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t garden. In fact until I was about 11 years old I thought the only reason there were four children in my family was because of all the weeding. It was the one thing we never fought about, there was always enough for all of us.! We always knew when spring had arrived and we could actually go out and get really dirty. Our Wellington boots would be standing in a row at the back door when we came down to breakfast. (The little pink ones were for the youngest sister, she was only three), we had already graduated to the “ black Wellies”, much more official garden wear.  What excitement that created, it meant we got to spend the whole day outside with our dad.
 Everything was dug by hand with a good garden fork (which I still use today) and four pairs of hands would pick every piece of white twitch grass and weeds as my Dad worked from one end of the garden to the other. Next it had to be all covered with compost and then raked level. Then you found your yardstick with your name on it and stood at the edge of the bed waiting to find out which part was yours. All the rows had to be measured and then a string line was used to keep you nice and straight. (My dad was an army man) straight rows were expected!! Next out came the seeds you wanted to plant and you very carefully filled up your rows. Knowing as we did that in a few weeks we would see the first little green shoots and witness the miracle of spring. We could hardly wait to get started. It was amazing what we learned as my Dad would share all his garden secrets with us. We just knew that no one else knew as much as he did. When mid summer arrived the joy of wandering through the garden picking all the things we had planted in the spring was heaven. Sitting in fresh rhubarb with the sugar pot and dipping pink juicy stalks was a favorite pastime. We picked bouquets for every room in the house and spent hours under the big maple tree tasting whatever we fancied that minute. (My Dad often wondered where all the green peas had gone).  When I first started a garden of my own I was amazed at the knowledge that I just seemed to have. It was just there, and I realized that I had absorbed so much from just watching, listening and hands on weed pulling. Every waking moment was spent outdoors in the sunshine and the garden. Not only did we learn to love gardening, we learned a lot of life lessons as well. My Dad was a pretty clever man. He not only taught us about the love of the land, the feel of the soil in your hands and experiencing nature first hand but it was also about family, sharing and spending time together. So no matter what type of garden you have, enjoy it to the fullest and find time to share it and all its surprises.
 
 Susan Heydon   

 

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