Give Yourself Another Flower
The Fabulous Ex-Husband's(tm) current wife Karen proposed some time ago that we - she and I - take a gardening class. Most current wives of ex-husbands would be planning a prank with a woodchipper, but Karen is an absolute blast. We exchange Christmas presents. She's the cuddly Grandma my grandson Panky will admire as he's driving me to the liquor store. See? That works out for everyone.
Last summer, I made a feeble attempt to find classes, and by feeble, I mean I sat at the keyboard and whined, "Where are you, classes?" Actually typing words might've helped but I wasn't ready. I was moving. We were working on the kitchen. A Republican was in the White House. It was just the wrong time for me to try concentrating, but a few weeks ago, I got a little more serious about classes, and by more serious, I mean I whined at Siobhan, "Where can I find gardening classes?" She found them for me by typing words and pressing that enter key. Me, I've been so afraid to commit.
The unnamed university where I sometimes work but seldom pay attention for the last 23 years offers classes like container gardening, vegetable gardening made easy and wreath making. That last one sounds too much like work, but there's another class that sounds interesting called cold frame growing. Apparently that thing we call our greenhouse - it looks like a malnourished jungle gym after a slip cover accident - is a cold frame. Perhaps we could learn a more sophisticated method of keeping our sprouts warm on chilly nights.
In a rush of unexpected maturity, I signed up. I'm sorry to startle you like that. Later, I'll do something to make up for it like re-route traffic by the municipal building using orange cones and a German shepherd. The time is right for you to find classes where you are and to grow your own food. Type some words. Press enter.