The Garden

Let me tell you a story about a garden. Except it really isn't about the garden (is it ever, really though?) Truthfully, it is more about the gardener, or should I say the relationship between the garden, gardener and 'gardenee '(prada herself). Now, we are getting somewhere. (P.S. Hurray for big pictures. You're welcome.:))

I have a love-hate relationship with my garden/yard/outdoor space. This extends to its caretaker - whom we shall refer to simply as, 'the gardener'. My garden is, at its best, awesome. It is the perfect place for my two little boys (Numero Uno and Monkeyboy) to run around, ride their bikes, plant cherry seeds (that never ever grow), swim, dig up dirt etc etc. I have no problem with that - in fact, this is why I label the garden as 'awesome'. My beef with the garden is that it is unruly, temperamental, home to rabbits and the occasional little snake (when left untended) and this is where the gardener comes in. His task is simply to 'reason with the garden', tame the garden, nurture the garden. (READ: Do whatever garden needs so that we do not dwell in perpetual state of Jumanji.) Is this too much to ask? Apparently so.


So for years, I have tussled with the gardener. Made excuses for him. "Oh, it's too hot", "It's raining", "But he's so honest", "We'll never find a better deal." etc etc etc. Thus round and round we went, an infinity ring of paydays, unmet expectations, payday, attitude and threats to leave, paydays and complete silence from gardener. Even more paydays. Then the realization that I (well it was more like Hubby had had enough and just fired him and hired someone else, but it reads better my way) just had to step out of my comfort zone and embrace change. Familiar doesn't always mean better. Good friends rarely equal good work ethic. Honesty is not efficiency and as cliched as it sounds, 'there's always more fish in the sea'. I know, groan. Enter our new gardeners. Enter Nirvana. I so wish I had a 'before' picture to show you so that you could fully grasp how far we've come, but you should be impressed with just the 'after'.

What's your 'garden'? Who's your 'gardener'? Yes, I'm getting preachy - it's Sunday and Prada just had a 'hallelujah' moment. Thank you, Lord!


And totally off topic - just because it's a great moment captured by my trusty blackberry camera that never captures anything, thanks to its annoying shutter delay thingy. CAPTION THIS, WILL YA PLEASE Somebody!!!

(Mama please may I? I know I can, pleasepleaseplease! Don't say I'm just a baby, I can do it- just put me on one of those bike thingies and I'll be good, promise! Wait for me, Monkeyboy! Numero Uno? Aw man!!!) Just wanna snog them all cause they are so precious- Monkey boy, Numero Uno and Principessa. I know, her proper introduction is coming soon, promise. :)


garden couture anyone?
PP