Weeds

Today, on the drive home from the Cape, I found myself daydreaming about my garden and what's happening with it. What weeds I can pull when I get home. What my veggies have done over the weekend. What flowers need watering. What I should cut and bring in the house.

The world certainly works in mysterious ways, I'll tell you that much. Never in a million years did I think I had a gardener's mentality. The only thing I knew about weeds were they were good for a smoke. Now I can spot one a mile away, as I race to get my gardener's gloves on.

I guess this is what they mean when they say your 30's are different. Or else, the 'burbs got a hold on me. I've apparently joined the ranks of Westchester women who've traded their heels for hoes and would rather primp their garden than themselves. I don't know whether to be scared or grateful.