I'm a shrubbery gal. I love shrubs. In particular, hydrangeas. Some of my best friends are hydrangeas, going back to my very first summer. My grandmother had a hydrangea that was bigger than her little dirt floor garage. I was 9 months old for my very first hydrangea - my very first summer. All I had to do was stand up and that old hydrangea just handed me flowers - I've been walking ever since and talking to hydrangeas every summer since I was born. Even for these past few years, in this new house, with none of my own, I'm practically surrounded by them.
What amazes me most is that, even including that first summer, I've only had 60 summers. It makes me feel young to think about how little actual experience that is and how little experience I have, even with hydrangeas - and how little experience most have with gardening in general.
It's like farming. How many farmers do you suppose there have been who have brought in a hundred harvests? It can't be more than a handful. Compare that to the number of meals a cook has prepared or how many times a dairy farmer has milked his cows where every meal and every milking is like a season in itself.
This is only my 60th summer and that just amazes me.
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