Two early memories.
First, from age 3-4, I can clearly see in my minds eye the garden that my immigrant grandparents had created in their Pennsylvania back yard. On the left vegetables. On the right more vegetables with flowers nearer to the house. Running down the center of the yard was a narrow brick footpath. I can see poppies, a rose bush, an Easter lily. Potatoes, tomatoes, onions. I was not allowed to step off the path to touch the plants.
Fast forward to age...7 approximately. I visit my friends house. She has strict parents and my friend can not leave the house to play until she has finished reading for one hour. But my friend's mother says, "I was just about to divide the Grape Hyacinths; you are welcome to help if you'd like."
Whoa! Heck yes! I was down on my knees in front of the flower bed where Mrs A showed me how to gently dig up the tiny bulbs, separate the and replant the. She explained that is how to get more plants for free. I was dirty. I was happy. I was hooked!
Another day Mrs A showed me how to pinch Coleus plants. This is easy for me to remember as I was bitten by a spider while pinching the plants. She showed me how to prune the roses, the forsythia, wisteria, and more.
My children read AND get dirty - it's a win-win situation. Thanks Mrs A!
