Desperate for gift suggestions? I've got one that might work. You don't have to go out in the cold. There are no malls involved. You don't have to get dressed up. It appeals to procrastinators, (they are the ones reading these gift suggestion articles on December 21) because it can be put off for at least several months.
Instead of a shiny trowel, thorn-proof gloves or a fetching straw hat. Give the actual gift of gardening.
You can decide how. Kind of like those "giving levels" you see on those corporate donor lists or the annual fund, you know, like Mavericks and Rangers, or Ladybugs and Grasshoppers, all euphemisms for Big Spender and Cheapskate. You choose the level of involvement. You can hand your giftee a package of seeds and your best wishes or you can get down in the dirt. It's up to you, but do you really want to be known as a "pea pod"?
Most gardeners will tell you that they learned, and learned to love gardening from a grandparent. But nowadays grandparents are glitzier; more likely to take Disney cruises than dig potatoes. Parents are held hostage to hockey/soccer/baseball practice and Chinese/Spanish/French camp. Time outside is organized, heck, those third graders need to polish their resumes, and the front yard is something that must be maintained and managed. With terms like nature-deficit disorder in our language, it's no secret we need a little Mother Nurture.
You can see I was gardening from an early age. "Working in the yard" was what we did. But it was the farthest thing from work. I wasn't made to pull weeds, just allowed to wander and wonder. So make a promise to a child, or a larger person in your life to show them what it is that pulls you to your aching knees and draws you out sometimes before you're dressed. They don't even have to know it's gardening. Just go out and sniff flowers, watch bugs and make mud pies. The seed will be planted.
