Gardening with Hurricane Shirley and Don the Brawn.

Lately I have found out my parents are complete opposites. Mom's speed is such that the only way I can think to describe her is two words: Gung Ho. Ok, that sounds bad, my mom is not a Ho. She's just really insistent on getting her way, and is willing to beg, borrow, whine, and grouch her way into getting what she wants.  Now mind you, my mother has a good heart, and is always thinking she is doing the best for someone else, when in reality it benefits her.

My dad, however, is strictly the backbone, the moving parts of the operation, and possibly the most patient person I have ever met. However, as he is getting older, he is finally starting to stand up to Hurricane Shirley, and will yank her chain back if necessary. He also has an excellent sense of humor. With Dad, you know that he's going to throw a sarcastic quip out at the right moment and usually at your expense. It's quite charming really.

Today was the best example of classic Hurricane Shirley and Don the Brawn. Mom stopped by this morning and I went to a couple greenhouses with her. I had started a small container garden (4 containers and a front flower bed) so when I went with her, I had planned on getting two more tomato plants. When I arrived home, I had added two tomato plants, four cucumbers, and eight peppers to the original 3 tomato plants, 4 cucumbers, and eight peppers. This small container garden was small no more. I did some shuffling and planted what would fit, and mom said she'd bring me a couple more containers to plant the extra peppers in.

I had just began to relax and contemplate a bath when my phone rang. Mom. I answered (like I always do...) and mom told me that she and Dad were in town with some stuff for my garden. They arrived with 5 tomato cages, 2 large buckets, a shovel, 2 large planters, and a giant planter. I was informed by my mother that we were going to replant the tomatoes into the new containers, plant the peppers and douse everything with Miracle-Gro. Joy. Dad went straight for the folding chair on the porch. It was obvious that he had been coerced into coming. Being as we were out of potting soil, it was also obvious that someone was going to have do some serious digging the backyard for dirt.  I looked at Dad, he looked at me. I smiled, he smiled. Then he said, "Well, you better get to it..." and I knew my back was about to get REALLY sore. At some point he took pity on me and filled a couple of the containers, I don't remember when as I think I may have been hyperventilating. I'm not a small girl, and I'm not that great at physical stuff, so I was in some good pain.

We brought the filled containers around to the front (brought=lugged, pulled, panted, died) and I started transplanting. Then I realized we had to fill four more containers. I looked at Dad and smiled, he pretended not to see me. I looked at mom, she was pouring Miracle-Gro generously EVERYWHERE and I dragged the shovel and container back to the torture zone (I mean backyard). I filled the pots and brought them up and transplanted the remaining plants. My mom then spent the next 10 minutes telling me to do things and making me change things a million times. Dad fell asleep on the porch.

Mom woke Dad up and said she was hungry. Dad told her to walk across the street to Dillons. She looked at me and said "Let's go." I thought of many responses to that order, and eventually decided I would probably get a shovel to the brain if I said any of them to her. Besides, I was not going to be THAT daughter. You know the ungrateful one who makes their mother walk across the street to the grocery store with her broken leg and walk back carrying food.

By the time we returned I was exhausted. Still am. Which sucks because Das Bear wants me to clean the living room before he gets home at 11. Thinking that's not gonna happen. I'm taking a nap. Maybe a bath.

Most of all, I'm going to expect my phone to ring tomorrow morning, and for the caller ID to say MOM. Odds are I'm going to the greenhouses again, and I'm gonna have to dig more dirt and I'll get an impromptu visit from Mom and Dad again tomorrow. And Dad will sit there and watch us monkeys work, and I'll break my back and die. Ok, maybe not that last one. But for sure the others.

Love and Laughter-
Kat Lady