The huge problem with gardening in a desert is how miserably hot it gets during the day. I used to hate-hate-hate yardwork, and this year I was hoping it would magically change.
I hate working in the hot sun as much as I ever did, even as a grownup with a longing to follow prophetic counsel — okay, and a strong desire to NOT pay a million dollars @ the grocers for fresh organic produce, too. After a few weeks of occassionally poking dirt around in hot hot sun I finally figured out it wasn’t going to happen. Nope. I’m just not cut out for hot weather – it sucks the life clean outa me, leaving me cranky and weak.
I decided over the weekend to just grit my teeth and bear it, for by dingo I WILL have a garden this year… And the only way it’s going to happen is if I just DO it. So first thing in the morning, even before breakfast, I threw grungies on and recovered the weakling tomato plants that had been overgrown with weeds. How convenient that the abundant weeds caught dew and had watered & sheltered said tomatoes for me! So that’s how they survived w/o any attention these past few weeks. Cool.
And speaking of cool, in a desert sheltered a bit by mountains, it’s not blazing hot outside at 7am. Who’d ‘ave thought?! Weeding during the crisp, cheerful morning shade wasn’t quite the same as weeding in hot, sweaty sunshine.
That was Monday. I spent the whole day quite pleased with myself for having accomplished the most ornery of tasks before my family had breakfast. John thought there was something wrong with me. I rarely (if ever) get up at the same time as him. Crazy.
Tuesday it didn’t happen because I had breakfast first, showered, had children to feed & clothe, fights to break up, a baby to nurse… and then it was hot out. Yuck. As noted before, I don’t do hot.
As I was dealing with the morning “stuff” I found I missed that quiet time digging in the dirt. What was wrong with me?
Wednesday came and I hurried — did I say hurry? yup, I did — out of bed so I could reclaim more garden space. As I struggled to get roots out with my bare hands, I felt like the Queen of the Dirt, Master of this grey sheetrock called the ground. Did I find myself actually enjoying this?
Thursday it was undeniably true. I (cough cough) like it. Don’t tell anyone, I still can’t believe it myself. Strong evidence that miracles never cease. Today it was confirmed by my hopping out of bed, again more interested in conquering the southeast corner of our yard than in filling an empty tummy.
I shall therefore update the title of this post. I don’t hate gardening. I like it. All I had to do was get up earlier and the Lord changed my heart. What I really hate is hot weather. We’ll see if the Lord will change that over time, too.
Or maybe we’ll just move back to Washington someday so He won’t have to.