Half a Gardener

In the years after we first moved to Maine, I got smitten with gardening. Our first summer I watched where the sunlight fell in the yard and for how many hours, and then I spent many winter hours perusing garden catalogs for appropriate plants. Before long I had learned by osmosis and repetition the Latin names of numerous perennials, and I had the beginnings of a pretty good garden book collection.

When I was pregnant with Anna (that would be seventeen years ago), we were ready to dig and plant the first of our perennial beds. David did just about all of the double-digging, as my late pregnancy size and shape made it pretty difficult to dig. The planting was awkward enough, but I did it!

Other beds followed in subsequent years, until I had created more gardens than I can reasonably keep up and still have time for other endeavors, including new interests like painting. 

Or maybe it's just that I've always liked starting gardens more than maintaining them. I figure that makes me half a gardener. Half a gardener, but a whole garden lover and admirer.