This morning it was drizzling, about 52 degrees, gray. I did my breakfast routine, walked the dog, set off for the master gardener greenhouse in my zippy li'l Mazda. I like going up there on the highway because it's quick and I don't have to merge -- the ramp becomes exit-only for my exit.
I get there, people greet me enthusiastically, I talk a bit with Al about the NEW upcoming cookbook project I've volunteered for. There was a hosta to divide, so I found a serrated . . . machete? . . . and started sawing away. Potted up the clumps, talked with Bret and Toni, Nancy told me she loooooves my art, which was so nice to hear! (hmm, this involves the secret project which I'll talk about another day.) Nancy had brought in a jug of Vietnamese coffee, we all took some and joked around that we were soooo busy!
Potted up more hosta, moved on to pink yarrow, borrowed clippers, identified pulmonaria, talked about everything from my hair to learning German (with the Swiss lady) to mini-golf. Kept quiet when the conversation turned to being older than 50. Drank more coffee. Untangled the euonymus and started potting and clipping. Got my spare hosta clump (yay!) and walked back to my car.
As I drove home, I realized that the master gardener crowd makes me love being here. Sure, all that stuff I mentioned before about being homesick and ornery is true from time to time. But really, if I'm feeling mopey about it in the future, I'm just going to go hang with the MG's! I have so much fun!
Dear anyone who likes gardening: become a Master Gardener! You'll love it!!