Confessions of a gardening addict

Mike Dixon

You will find in the garden addict's pockets a knife that folds out into a pair of trimmers, various scraps of ribbon and wire for tying back rosebushes and vines, and a ground cloth.

By Mike Dixon

Special to The Capital-Journal

Hello, my name is Mike, and I'm an addict. My problem: I just can't leave grass alone. I am always fooling with it, trimming it, edging it, even when my lawn looks just fine.

My grass problem has had some adverse effects on my relationships with others, mostly with the guy across the street who doesn't have as much time to mow as I do. Sometimes he delivers painful barbs like, "Aren't you going to cut your grass today?" Usually, this is within 24 hours of the last time I mowed.

It isn't just grass. I have other problems with gardening. Neighbors often see me walking around my back yard in the morning, unshaven, with a can of beer in my hand. I have no doubt that this is ruining my reputation, but beer traps are a good way to control slugs. Better to do a little damage to my good name than to my beautiful hostas.

Sometimes, just talking about gardening gets me into trouble. Lately, I've been wanting to buy some rock, but when I asked the guy across the street where he gets his, all I got back was a blank stare. At least he has quit hassling me about the mowing.

One way to tell an addict is by the paraphernalia he carries. If I were to empty my pockets, you would invariably find a little knife that folds out into a sturdy pair of trimmers and various scraps of ribbon and wire for tying back rosebushes and vines. I also carry a ground cloth with me when I'm outdoors, because I spend a lot of time on my knees. Sometimes people mistake all that kneeling for something else, but I let it go. I figure it helps make up for the beer thing.

Another way to determine if someone is a garden addict is to check his closet. Mine is full of gardening clothes but short on everything else. I have clothes for cold weather gardening and others for working in the heat. I have clothes that are designated for spraying roses and staining wood and others that are OK for dirt but are not yet relegated to stain.

When my wife noticed recently that my closet was becoming a bit crowded with splotched and threadbare clothing, she asked me to go through it and pull out anything that I no longer needed. She was not amused when all I left on the bed was a couple of suits.

You know that you're a garden addict when your whole body is covered with marks from rosebushes and brambles and you don't feel any pain.

You know you've gone too far when you smile at the sound of the neighbor kids making the Tarzan yell, and you suddenly realize that it's coming from the vines in your own back yard.

You know something is warped when you polish your shoes to seal out the moisture before you go out to work in your garden. And if you forget to polish them before church, it sort of makes sense, because you have never encountered dew in a sanctuary anyway.

Mike Dixon also is a member of the Extension Master Gardeners program in Topeka.

Copyright 2001
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