This from an actual article published in the Christian Science Monitor.
Jane popped up in my backyard seven years ago, my second spring in this house. We both seem to recall that she arrived via a listing at City Hall for someone seeking garden work. I needed weeding. She needed eating. Ah, synergy, if ever mutual interests could be served on beds of freshly hoed soil.
"I love everything about gardening," I told Jane when we met, "except the work. I don’t like preparing the beds, don’t like digging the holes for the plants, don’t like hoeing furrows for the seeds, don’t like thinning the sprouting seedlings, don’t like dealing with dandelions and crabgrass, don’t like staking the beefsteaks, and as much as I love eating grape tomatoes, that’s how much I dislike tying them up and picking them."
"What part of gardening do you like?" Jane was looking at me with curiosity, perhaps even a fear of some subversive leanings I might have.
"I like showing it off," I answered.
And so, the whimsical little tale goes, writer Norman Prady’s garden is simply delightful now that he’s farmed out the work.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Of all the things that a non-gardener could spend money on, why not have them spend it in the employment of a hard-working horticulturalist like "Jane" who will rip out the boring old lawn and plant a vegetable garden or a butterfly garden or cutting garden or whatever else you might desire?
And then you can stroll around and enjoy it and show it off to your friends and harvest some fruit or some flowers. Sure beats watching TV.
But really, is this the best garden writing the CSM has to offer? Why not farm that out to a real gardener, too? Reminds us of this quote about writing: "I love being a writer. What I can’t stand is the paperwork."
Other recent garden coverage includes this story about how pretty the little flowers are, and this story about how yummy the tomatoes are, which includes this memorable line: "Fuzzy stuff on the stems and backs of tomato leaves stuck to our skin."