This is the cutest little gardening poem. It was in an email from a friend, so no, I didn't write it. A Week in the life of a Gardener's Spouse She dug the plot on Monday, the soil was rich and fine But she forgot to put the dinner on, so out we went to dine. She planted roses Tuesday, she says they are a must. They really were quite lovely, but she forgot to dust. On Wednesday it was daisies, they opened with the sun, All pinks and whites and yellows, but the laundry wasn't done. The poppies came on Thursday, all bright and cherry red, I guess she really was engrossed, she never made the bed. It was violets here on Friday, in colours she adores, It never bothered her at all, the dirt upon our floors. Saturday I hired a maid, I'd not admit defeat, She gardens all she wants now and the house will still be neat. It's nearly lunchtime Sunday and I cannot find the maid, She's in the garden with my wife, and she's using her own spade!
Well my husband never employed a maid but I have had friends who have visited and ended up out in the garden getting to grips with the soil alongside me.
Nice husband! I must admit to putting gardening before housework any time, if the weather is good. Occasionally I wonder whether to clean the floor or just sow and water.
