All I ever grew was weeds.  I think partly because it gets so hot and you have to tend the garden, like a lot.  When I was young I wasn’t into all that.  Even now, I do not get excited about a well manicured lawn.  Yea it looks great don’t get me wrong.  For me, all I care about is that its cut.  That is it.

Now my mom was amazing.  She could grow anything.  Beautiful flowers.  Great looking vegetables.  I never felt drawn to be out when it was blistering hot out sweating just to pull some weeds and water them at just the right time.  I have no issue with the dirt thing.  It’s the blazing summer heat.  With my porcelain skin especially now that I am 43 I burn very easily and I do not tan.  In fact, I put on sunscreen and have to reapply.  Now that I get hot flashes the whole thing seems less appealing to me.

Every now and then, I think about getting one of those wooden things you can stack to plant things.  We have clay in our yard and there is no way I am taking a rototiller to that, especially with my fibromyalgia.  Besides, then my fiancé would probably insist on doing that and he has enough on his plate.

When I get these urges, I often times say, “I hear ya mom but, that was your thing”  Maybe, I just miss seeing all the colors of the flowers and all the vegetables.  Not that she had a big farm.  But she loved to work out in the yard.  Yea, that gene skipped me.  Even tho I sometimes thing about it, I know I won’t do it.  The reality is I am not my mom.  I do not ever remotely have a green thumb.  I get no enjoyment from yard work.

If anything, I will be inside writing or working on my crafts.  I may be making a mosaic or crocheting/knitting.  That is where my heart is.  I love creating art.  I love the transformation.  I will still admire others yards and the beautiful flowers.  I will enjoy the memory seeing the hard work will bring me of her.  My mom was no stranger to hard work and creating beauty of her own.

–Sarah Cobble