Tonight, while trying to snap pictures of my kids holding enormous turnips at the Garden, I dropped my gloves. Since age 18, I've had a special adoration for gardening gloves--they give me courage to combat thorns, spiders, and stinging insects. This latest pair I've had for 2 years. Three years ago I bought "ladies gardening" gloves from the dollar-section of a hardware store. Well, I got what I paid for--two left hands, so then I splurged and moved up to "ladies leather gardening" gloves. Good-bye blisters, hello Invincible Garden Lady! And they fit, well, like a glove. Until tonight.
While the boys helped "fix" a sprinkler, I sought the lost pair, finding only Leftie. He gave it his best, but got tired after attacking a pile of bind weed and "cheese wheels." The search for Rightie was fruitless, though I did come up with some dill and find out why on ly 10 percent of my 300 carrot and herb seeds germinated (they got dry--keep moist by covering with burlap, old carpet or fine 1-inch layer of mulch for 9-10 days and uncover when the first wispy leaves reach out of the earth). About the time my husband and the baby had finished weeding, and showed us a praying mantis, I noticed my two boys enjoying a gushing hose. In no time, they'd built the Nile on which two pink crocs glided silently along. Then the sprinklers soaked my daughter and while I rescued her, I lost Leftie. Wet and laughing, we evaded the sprinklers and made a quick exit to our bikes. The pink crocs made it (still muddy on the back porch) but the gloves will have to fend for themselves against the bugs and thorns until Saturday...
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