This is the time of year when I am frequently torn by opposing emotions. Concerning the garden, I mean. Let’s not even think about getting into all the other areas. Those 50 degree nights? They make me think about frost. It’s coming. Soon. Four weeks? Six weeks? And it makes me crazy. Everything is looking so nice.
Barbie, THE Barbie turns 50 this month. It’s hard to believe considering her still fantastic looks and non-stop go go go attitude. Poor Midge fell apart so early. And Ken. Well, Ken was always second banana to the girls anyway (no pun intended).
Barbie and I go way back. We’re practically the same age. I can still remember looking at the Sears and Roebuck Christmas catalog (when it was still Sears and Roebuck) and two things always caught my eye: Barbie and GI Joe. I wanted them both desperately but Santa was always short on the come-through. Once past the Santa stage I still wanted them both, I admit. With Barbie it frequently was those glorious evening dresses. Tons of silk and satin and fur. What boy wouldn’t have been mesmerized?
But what is the secret to that never aging body, everything firm and still in place? Believe it or not it’s gardening. Yes folks, gardening. Sure she’s all glamor and pearls but she’s also all mulching and pruning.
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