Gardening has always been a private hobby of mine. Ever since T was born, it has become more so than ever. It is now a secret luxury to attend to the garden as my work duty and maternal duty have claimed most of my time, and I feel very guilty for the "need" to do gardening, and the wish to be in the garden, as it always feels like a crime to relax and to spend time for myself.
I managed to steal some 20 minutes last winter to plant tulips and some several other minutes to fertilise the garden. Despite vigorously-spreading weed, the garden managed to bloom in different colours in the several months of Spring.
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| peony |
No one except I myself ever cares about the flowers in my garden. My own father and my father-in-law both sought to intervene with my gardening business, but they never showed any excitement about the abundant produce in the garden that I have nurtured. I wonder if I am seeking their praise (even though neither of them was good gardener on their own) to show that I can do better than my patriarchal fathers, or if they are too proud to say anything.
Since T was born, no one but I alone cares for the green. It is just like no one cares for the mother after the child was born. This double sense of loss created an kind of alliance between my garden and I, as both of us have been left behind and relegated to a minor position in the family.
The wisteria is a new addition to the garden this year after it was transplanted last August, and it started to bloom last Spring.
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