As I was saving this article, my computer flashed “Compatibility Check Recommended” – Huh? So I said to my computer, “I love you and want to spend my life with you.” And the warning went away and we’re reconciled.
This reminded me of other odd things:
I still get squeamish when I accidently cut an earthworm in half. Do they really become two worms or is it something we were told as kids so we wouldn’t feel like a killer.
Why does our mouth open when we look up after someone says, “Look at that bird.”
I’m still tempted to put in my pocket and take home every pretty little rock.
Gravitational forces pull harder when there’s a sign saying, “Keep off the grass.”
The next generation will always make fun of the previous generation’s recipes, fashion, hairstyles, and methods. Two generations from now they will do it all over again and call it new.
I can walk through a robber baron’s garden and faintly feel someone needs to bring me an iced tea on a silver platter.
A dog’s sense of smell is 100,000 times stronger than a human’s. I’m counting that as one of my blessings.
No one who’s gone swimming in a farm pond comes out singing, “It’s a treat to beat your feet on the Mississippi mud.”
Why do we do 500 things, spend $500, read 500 books to plant a garden when the wind can successfully sow seeds on a roadside with abandon?
Never trust a visitor to your garden who demands to know the Latin names of plants.
To truly love something in the yard, we usually attribute human characteristic first: That tree stands like a soldier. Doesn’t that flower have a pretty face?
If vegetables tasted like bacon, we’d be a healthier human population.
The Midwest would never accept negative nutritional data about sweet corn and fresh tomatoes. Sorry, they’re perfect – period and the end of conversation.
A flower picked from your garden by a grandchild is more valuable than a FTD upgraded bouquet any day.
Half an insect on your picnic plate will make even the most macho guy gag a little.
I was happier before I heard the words: pollution, environmentally friendly, acid rain, additives, enhanced, EPA, FDA and Al Gore. I’m not saying the knowledge is wrong, but ignorance was bliss.
That moment three seconds after you pull a weed and realize it was actually a young perennial.
Why when your systematically spraying for weeds do you always hit a valued plant ten seconds before you’re done?
It will only hail on plants when they have reached that perfect stage.
If the advertisement for a newly developed plant says it cannot be killed, it will never live in my garden.
Whether orange is beautiful is in the eye of the beholder.
Birds have pecking order down pat.
The third time you replant your garden, bunnies are no longer cute.
Bending to pull just one weed and twelve weeds later you remember you had a manicure yesterday.
Buying a wonderfully fabulous new plant only to realize you’ve killed the same plant three years in a row.
That immediate bond the moment you realize a new acquaintance loves gardening as much as you.
Peeling off muddy clothes, taking a hot shower and realizing any day in the garden is pretty much perfection.