Gardening In Our Blood

When autumn time arrived last year,
I said, "I've really had it, dear!
I've raked and hoed and picked and canned;
Just see that callus on my hand!
You know what I've been thinking, dear?
Lets let our garden go next year.
We'll buy all those things in the store-
They wouldn't cost us too much more.
When summer comes I'll sleep till ten,
Get up and clean the house, and then
I'll make a glass of lemonade
And go sit beneath the shade.
When you come home at night from work,
I'll put the coffee on to perk,
Then we'll sit down and talk or read
And never think of garden seed."
Remember how you smiled and said,
"I think you've really used your head
To save us all this work next year
I'm sick of gardening, too, my dear."

But then one day, the sky was blue,
The sun was warm, the tulips grew.
The April days grew long and free,
The ground lay waiting patiently.
The sleeping grass awoke to green,
And then in every magazine
Were ads for bulbs and plants and seeds-
In fact, for all your gardening needs.
One day you picked me up downtown.
With bundles I was loaded down.
No need to try and hide the facts
With "Burpee Seeds" stamped on the sacks.
Remember how your face got red
And how you turned away and said,
"When we've unloaded all that junk,
I have a few things in the trunk.
I'll need some help, for it is hot
And seed potatoes weigh a lot."

So now we stand here, hand in hand
And gaze at our productive land.
The berry beds are weeded clean,
The vegetables are tall and green.
We love our land in drought or mud,
For we have gardening in our blood.

~ Jean Little~