A few weeks ago, Will and I took a trip to Home Depot. We were on one of those, “let’s fix up the house” kicks. After we added the essentials to the buggy, you know, bug spray, grout cleaner, and clippers, we came across the gardening section (**eyes start glowing). I immediately begin grabbing gardening gloves and tiny shovels, my thoughts set on seeds and miracle grow.
**Voice of reason and logic enter…”Babe, don’t you think we should research a bit before we begin this gardening venture?”--via Will, of course.
Seriously, holding back tears, I give in. I hold a grudge for the next two or three aisles, then realize the horrible truth, he’s right. I know absolutely nothing about gardening, except that, for some reason, I’m really moved to “garden”. It seems so natural, which it is. But, also, the thought of wearing gloves, digging in the dirt, and growing something that I can eat is SO Weezer (Steel Magnolias reference), that I can’t resist.
**I really did tell the above story to reference the following
Present day: Kentucky
We all know how the Kentucky Derby works, well, for the people who actually go anyway. It’s a huge deal! All the fun stuff that includes, but is not limited to, glorious dress, amazing hat, and fancy little drinks with sprigs of green stuff floating out the top. That’s the
. I think it would be amazing to actually be at the Derby , but, I’m a commoner (which, by the way, the lovely Kate Middleton has made that pretty awesome), so I’m sitting at home with my lovely family to watch all the fun in amazement. But, that doesn’t mean I can’t play the part, right? Derby
Finding the right dress and hat are key. That’s what makes these women at the d
so elegant. But, any of you who know me, know that the one word you would never use to describe me, would be “elegant”. I look for my dress and my hat, and think, “I’ve found them; Dress…perfect. Hat…divine!” About two hours before the derby is set to start, I get dressed. I look at myself in the mirror, and immediately think, “I look like a gardener.” And, I do! Straw hat, “hippie dress”, yep, I am totally a gardener. erby
I begin making the mint juleps to try and salvage my quest to hit divinity on this fine day. Let me just say, I am NOT a bourbon fan, but, the royalty at the derby drink these. I can do this! I finish making this concoction that smells like death. I take my first sip, and literally gag, waiting for the dry heaving to begin.
The derby coverage has begun. I watch as all these women walk through, celebrities, socialites, heirs. They look so beautiful and refined, guided by security and bodyguards. These women are so put together, and so beautifully happy. I look at myself, and see a gardener. So unrefined, gagging at these dainty drinks, and watching the derby in my “hippie” dress, legs sprawled, drinking a Miller Lite, seeing as how I trashed the julep. But, I am having so much fun! Why, you ask? Cause this is ME! I may not be refined in the same respect as the derby divas, and I may not be as elegant. But, I am me, gardener and all, and I am totally cool with that!
We are all defined at some point in our lives, “the brain”, “the athlete”, “the beauty”, “the rebel”—come on, the Breakfast Club taught us this! But, there comes a point in our lives, when we let go of the labels that others give us, and find our own. The lovely ladies at the derby have their labels, some they were given, and some, that they have been lucky enough to give themselves. Today, I am fortunate enough to find mine, on my own! I am a gardener in this crazy game of life. I am unrefined and far from elegant. But, I am SO happy with the person I am, and wouldn’t change it for all the juleps in the great state of
. I am a gardener and can’t wait to go back to Home Depot to get my seeds and tiny shovel! Kentucky