Gardeners Are Not Normal

September 19th, 2023

   It occurred to me one day while inspecting the butt hairs of a lawn grub that gardeners are not normal people.

Who but an obsessed gardener can be found outside mulching in the rain?

   We gardeners tend to pay attention to things that “regular” people don’t, we don’t notice odors that regular people do, and we often engage in activities that would curl the skin of Miss Manners.

   The results might be pretty, but getting there usually isn’t.

   A gardener on a mission is apt to soil any clothing, strain any muscle, and endure any squeamishness to get the job done.

   Take those grub hairs, for instance.

   I’m as grossed out as anyone by grubs – those fat, white, C-shaped, wormy-looking critters that feast on our lawn roots. But the only sure-fire way to tell whether they’re Japanese beetle grubs or masked chafer beetle grubs is to inspect the arrangement of tiny hairs on their “rasters” (the polite word for butt).

   This is important because the organic treatment that works for one doesn’t work for the other.

   So you see it’s perfectly sensible to look at grub butts under a hand lens.

   OK, maybe not.

   But we didn’t start out this way, you know. Gardening has a way of gradually distorting sensibilities to the point where one day you realize that you consider a bag of dried cow manure to be a really thoughtful birthday present.

   I remember Erica Shaffer, the former chief plant geek at Highland Gardens in Lower Allen Twp., telling me how she, too, once was revolted by adult Japanese beetles.

   As she got braver, she’d pick the beetles off her plants with a gloved hand.

   Then she graduated into bare-handed squish-as-you-go. Who needs gloves?

   Distorted sensibilities are the logical result of being obsessed.

   How do you know when you’re heading down that road?

   Here’s a 12-point test to see where you stand on the obsessed-gardener scale:

   1.) You mulch during a driving rain storm and don’t even notice that the rain has turned to hail.

   2.) Darkness doesn’t mean it’s time to quit planting the begonias. It means it’s time to get out the spotlights.

   3.) When you get together with friends, you end up spending two hours debating the merits of Heuchera cultivars.

   4.) You find yourself going to a coffee shop not to order a latte but to ask the manager if you can have spent coffee grounds for your compost pile. Or you go to the barber not to get your hair cut but to ask for sweepings that you can use as a rabbit repellent.

   5.) You catch yourself salivating while looking at the Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds catalog.

A good day is measured by how dirty you got.

   6.) You can’t take a walk in any neighborhood without noticing that the hollies are planted too closely to the foundation and that the orange zinnias clash with the pale-blue shutters.

   7.) You measure the quality of a day by how dirty your socks are and how tired your back is.

   8.) You view a big pile of rotting horse manure not as a smelly, fly-attracting eyesore but as a fantastic free new resource.

   9.) You plan your vacation to work around when the tomatoes are ripening and when it’s time to mulch.

   10.) You’re so focused on weeding, watering, and planting that you forget to eat lunch. And dinner.

   11.) You find yourself aimlessly wandering around the houseplant section of a greenhouse in January, just to get a “green fix.”

   12.)You break your foot while edging but keep going under the premise that you can still push down with the unbroken one.

   If you can relate to five or fewer of those, there’s still hope. You are still partly sane.

   If you relate to between six and 11, you are already obsessed. At least you’re not alone.

   If you relate to all 12, go to a psychiatrist and get help immediately… after you’re done watering the house plants, of course.