Love in the Time of Gardening

  

 I am pretty sure that my husband thinks I am having an affair. There are my unexplained absences, unaccounted for money spent and the evening trips to "the store" for milk and bread that take a little too long and never result in any milk or bread. Where were you? What were you doing? he asks. My responses are always vague. 

  I am having an affair of sorts. It is just a lame and embarrassing affair with my local garden center. But I just can't help myself. I enjoy the little thrill I get by sneaking out to the garden store this way. Nobody knowing where I am, the anonymity of it. Some people take baths or watch T.V. to de-stress but visiting my garden center, to me, is pure relaxation. When I am pursuing through the various fruit trees I long to buy, spotting the newest hydrangea hybrid, striking up a casual conversation with a fellow garden enthusiast over what the perfect shade plant is, I feel my troubles melting away. Oh and the smells roses, lilacs, basil...heaven. I swear there is more oxygen there as well and I immediately feel more energetic. 

     I am at the garden center so much that I sometimes think the staff may think I am a bit of a lurker or maybe an escapee from some kind of institution but I don't care. My pure pleasure over rides any sort of odd looks from the staff. Maybe one day I will tell my husband where I am, but just not today.