all kinds of green

Today marks an important day in my family history: the first time I have voluntarily pulled the weeds from our brick sidewalk and patio; the first time I, of my own accord, offered to help mom cut back flowers. The first time I was excited to be in the flower beds, have dirt under my fingernails and feel plant juice drying in a sweet shine on my arms.

As I started becoming more actively involved in environmental efforts, I realized how connected these themes were, and home crucial they are, to our own lawns, flower beds or gardens. I became a hater of grass, for its lack of use or purpose (other than the competition for the greenest lawn) and high demand for chemicals. I became interested in creating a backyard ecosystem, a sustainable lawn and property. I became embarrassed about my lack of gardening (or general plant) knowledge.

I planted the milkweed today. Mom still calls it a weed. I still insist that everyone defines "a weed" for themselves. The two stalks are nestled in by the honeysuckle, behind garden statue. I'm pretty sure Mom's trying to hide it. I'm also pretty sure that the Monarchs and lack of aphids will be appreciated when the milkweed starts blooming.

From the milkweed, I moved on to the weed-pulling. With each pull, I thought of the garden that Joe and I will start. What our children will want to plant. How we'll learn when and where to plant which vegetables to have decent harvests. How we'll handle weeds. How we'll learn to keep them alive.How big lilacs will get if I just let them go. What a house would look like if the yard was full of lilac bushes. Obviously, things started getting out of hand.

When I helped Mom cut back the tulips and daffodils, she casually mentioned that she needed to dig up the irises. The bulbs were too deep, preventing them from blooming. How'd you know that? Your grandma, she replied. I wondered how many generations have been able to say this, at what point the mother became the authority on gardening.

I am usually stubborn, anxious to figure things out my own way. I refuse help and will fail on my own in order to teach myself. This summer, however, I'm so excited to spend weekend afternoons annoying my mom as she waters flowers. I want to know why she planted things, how you cut them back, how you figure that out, what you do with bulbs, how you shape bushes without killing the whole plant. I want to soak it all in during this last summer at home, so that when I'm launched into a world of caring for my home and children, I can piece together the knowledge to say without thinking, "If I do this, the flower will straighten out again. If we plant this here, these pests will stay away." I want to start gaining that infinite Mom Knowledge.