I posted in the spring about my intense dislike of gardening.
However, despite the aversion, I did do some planting. And to my utter shock and great delight I am beginning to reap some harvest.
Tiny pebble-sized, hard, green balls turned in to firmly soft red tomatoes . . . little, sweet cherries . . . large, sliceable Better Bush. Wow! This is a delight!
Well, far be it for me to encounter anything in my life that I don't then sit and analyze. So, here is my analysis.
Gardening is a lot like pregnancy. It's hot and uncomfortable and your legs ache and forever and ever and ever it seems like all the work you're going through is for nothing. And then one day you deliver . . . or, uh, taste your first sweet cherry tomato . . . and you realize that all the work actually had a purpose. And now you're enjoying it. Oooh, boy, you are enjoying it! Kissing a soft baby head . . . holding large, sun-warmed tomatoes. See, exactly the same . . . kind of . . . you know.
So, if gardening is like pregnancy then I'm currently delivering. And my delicious bounty is filling me with joy unspeakable!!
I just may have to go through this again next year . . . speaking here of gardening, of course. Only of gardening.