When I grow up...

...I think I want be like Ruth Stout (No Work Gardening) or maybe Gertrude Jekyll. (Lord willing, to be able to vigorously garden and share my gardening experiences until the day they bury me!)

So, who are your heroes in the gardening world?

Mine are Melody and Brook, 'cuz they know so much about heirlooms and I'm just learning.

Well, isn't that sweet. Thank you Joan. But I'm still learning, too.

Terry (go_vols), I hope you don't just fall over dead in the garden and get buried that day. I think there might be some kind of laws about that. I seem to remember though that it isn't necessary to embalm a person in some states if they are buried immediately. You might want to start saving up for a nice little statue to mark the spot in the garden if that is the route you decide to go. It will definitely be cheaper in the long run. Then your hubby can afford another wife.
Did I just lose a good friend with this joshing? Hope not!! LOL

This message was edited Tuesday, Apr 2nd 10:11 PM

awwwwww Joan....If you only knew how little I really know.I'm flattered beyond belief. I'm like Brook...still learning.

I want to be a cross between Paul James and Gertrude Jekyll...I won't be any prettier but I'll know a lot and have a great sense of humor;~)

Naw, Elena - couldn't shake me loose with that one. Kind of a good idea, to have a statue to mark the spot, LOL.

MY MOM and POPPY SUE! =]

Calalily. travel with her and you'll feel the same way.

My garden hero is my "pop". http://davesgarden.com/showthread/206124.html

My father loved to garden back in Indiana. He was 51 years old when I was born, and I can't think of a year he didn't have a huge garden, or two, or three. We canned, we froze, we ate and ate, but there was always more left to share with others.

Pop always grew some flowers in his garden... glads, cosmos, zinnias, and many more. He always broadcast a row of "Old Fashioned Garden Mix". Every morning when my pop would head to town for a cup of coffee at the local cafe, he'd stop at the garden to pick a bouquet for the waitress, or the lady at the DMV, or the lady at the drug store.. it was a small town! My mother used to cluck with disapproval, but there was no harm intended.. Pop just liked to see their faces light up when he brought in a big bouquet!

My Pop died in his early 70's of cancer, and he was buried in the local cemetary in that little Indiana town. A friend once wrote me that his grave always has flowers on it... maybe some folks just wanted to return the favor.

Weeze, that's a beautiful story about your Dad. Thanks for sharing it. I think I want to be like your Dad too.

Great story, Weez.

I want to be like the woman in Edna St. Vincent Millay's poem, "Portrait by a Neighbor." The last stanza is:

"Her lawn looks like a meadow,
And if she mows the place
She leaves the clover standing
And the Queen Anne's Lace!"

Oh, wait, I'm her already.

>Kind of a good idea, to have a statue to mark the spot,<

Surely you mean a sculpture, G-V? A statue is a dead politician.

or in some cases a live one, Brook!!

I'm new to this forum so please forgive me for barging in like this.
I'd like to just be like GOD wants me to be, but Ruth Stout and Euell Gibbons are favorite garden people of mine. There are many others too. I like Jerry Bakers ideas on many things too.
Wheezing, I admire folks like your dad. You are so blessed to have parents like yours. A heritage such as yours is priceless.

Funny, I had no idea Liberty was a politician. But by golly she must have been - after all, it is the Statue of Liberty, right? ;0) (I figure once I'm gone, I probably won't much care if it's a sculpture, statue or a park bench they put atop me.)

Leaflady, come right on in - glad to have you join us! You are absolutely right - first off, I want to be what God wants me to be. But if it's okay with Him, I'd like to be just a little bit like those two women. Hopefully I've already got a bit of my Grandma in me, not to mention my parents, good gardeners all.

You know, over the years, I always wondered what I would be when I grew up. As a child, I drew so many pictures that everyone insisted I would be an artist. In high school, I sang well enough that everyone agreed I would be a singer. As a young adult, I sewed so much that I was considered a seamstress.

When I first moved to Alaska, I painted signs, so I was considered a sign painter. I've also been called a poet, a comedian...it's a small town, after all! For some years, I helped operate a small sawmill, so I was a millhand. But now that I am becoming a senior citizen, the blossom has opened, and I'm a gardener! I guess God knows what he is doing, because it is a wonderful thing to be!

Aaaagh and we understand now - it's in the blood, Weez - all those flats in your greenhouse and the house!!
What joy your father must have brought to so many people - and now you're following in his remarkable footsteps.

Go_Vols, I will tell you what you did grow up to be. You are a JOY to all who know you. What more could you possibly want out of life. I think a large statue like the one of Joan of Arc that I saw in France would be quite appropriate to mark your plot. Signed, An Admiring Friend.

You know.. I think a statue, edifice, memorial, whatever of a gardener should be someone with an old pair of dirty pants on, blown out at the knees... an old dirty teeshirt and a hat with a broad brim...a smear of dirt on the nose, and broken fingernails with black under them! Maybe the figure could be bent over, butt in the air, trowel in hand.. that's the beauty of being a gardener... one becomes so unaware of self.. just the plants, just the beauty of the garden. Of course, if I were to be imortalized that way, you could make the place into an outdoor theatre and show movies on my posterior!

Hey Weezin...your story about your dad could have been about my dad. He was even called Pop too!!! Something about those Hoosier dads :-)

I'll bet you're right, Vic!