Today I have been coveting my daughter's knees. I realize that this puts me in violation of the tenth commandment, but since it's unlikely that my coveting will move me to action, I may dodge divine retribution.
I need her knees because mine are old and cranky and not accustomed to all the stooping and squatting required for gardening. Today I planted nicotiana, salvia, and two kinds of basil, but I didn't get around to putting in the rosemary because my knees were begging for mercy. Oh for a younger pair of knees, some limber knees undaunted by gardening!
Maybe if I'd spent more time in the garden for the past decade or so, I wouldn't be so sore today. The truth is that I don't really enjoy gardening. I don't much care for creepy crawly bugs or dirt or sweat, but I do appreciate a flower garden and fresh tomatoes and basil and rosemary, not to mention sweet corn, peppers, okra, beets, beans, carrots, parsnips, peas, and let's not forget the strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, rhubarb, and even the lowly rutabaga.
Normally I rely on the rest of the family to plant it all and weed and water and harvest while I focus on processing the produce, but my Gardening Angel has been gallivanting all over Italy with her college choir and will soon be heading for a summer job in another state while my son the reluctant gardener will be working at a real job this summer and so will have an excellent excuse to stay out of the garden. That leaves my husband--a lean, green gardening machine, but even he needs help sometime.
And so I stoop and squat and try not to covet my daughter's knees. Come to think of it, those knees are heading home this weekend. Think we can do a quick trade?