The garden this year was by turns a success and a bust.  I've taken over the gardnening, mostly, from my dad, who now finds it too hard to stoop much, and whose shoulder and back hurt if he does too much digging.  While I was a brat about getting sweaty and hot as a teen, now I don't mind it at all; the pruning and trimming and digging all have realizable results, and sometimes when people are being awful elsewhere, there is nothing like a good day with the electric hedgetrimmer or chainsaw to get out the aggressions.  (Yes, I have a chainsaw.  There's a vicious vine on the other side of the fence and twice a summer I have to cross the boundary to cut it all down to the ground so it doesn't uproot the third fence we've put in in ten years.)  I like the medium-term return of a vegetable garden, and cut flowers inside the house, and homegrown things to cook into dinner.

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