Most fads, I sit out. But this year, inspired by a big grassy yard and a little economic uncertainty, I am determined to plant a vegetable garden. And so, apparently, is everyone else--including the First Lady. The White House is to have its first veggie garden, a fact I find almost as reassuring as the President's graceful message to the Iranian people and perfect pronunciation of the Arabic salutation. Why are homespun common sense and respectful courtesy so hard to come by? Because they require a little extra effort?
I'm cheerfully looking forward to the backbreaking work of double-digging this garden (and the dark ale and heating pad that will follow). I used to despise the phrase "no pain, no gain"; it seemed so breezily smug. But when I look back on everything I've loved about making a home and a life, it's the sweat equity that makes me smile. A few clicks to order something online? Dissolved. Cursing over a sewing machine to make heavy velvet drapes just the right color? A triumph still vivid.
What's so great about middle age is that now I can start these projects knowing I'm going to screw up, knowing I'm going to be frustrated 10 minutes in and sore afterward. I'll kill some seedlings, forget to water, screw up the distance between the carrots and the garlic. Plant too much in early exuberance, forget what I've read and stick the acid-tripping rhododendron next to the alkaline lettuce. It's OK. Because, like the new White House garden, home projects are as much about symbolism and values as they are about results. You're throwing your energy into something that matters to you. And that's a lot more rewarding than a couple clicks.
--Jeannette Cooperman, staff writer
