Sluggard's Day Book

This book, published in 1965, is the sort of book that both inspires and makes me perspire with anxiety. I could be doing something every single day in my garden: weeding, dividing, mulching, feeding, watering, etc. Tasks a normal gardener is supposed to do. This book takes away the guesswork about what needs to be done when. July 17 = rethink begonia watering. Here's what I do to my garden: absolutely nothing. (Correction — I pulled some evil crabgrass out of the herbs five days ago.) Yet everyone who sees the garden is awestruck by its beauty. What's the secret? With the exception of herbs, sunflowers and zinnias, I only plant weeds. I even joined something called Wild Ones, an organization whose mission is "to promote biodiversity and environmentally sound practices using native species in developing plant communities," (yah!) though I am not a joiner, and haven't actually been to a meeting yet. But l passionately believe that Nature Knows Best, and all the bugs and birds happily munching away at my flowers would concur. So I'll pay dues to folks who think the same. Plus — I am so f@#$%^&ing lazy these days, deep in the bones, that there's no way I'm going to treat the garden like an outdoor house which needs tidying. I will probably burn it this fall, which will kill the invasives and boost the natives, but pyromania is fun, not work. I don't really like being lazy, even though I'm so darn good at it. I keep hoping some miracle will occur and I'll get my old pep back, but I'll probably have to take drastic action: listen to heavy metal, eat raw foods, exercise like mad. One of my best friends is my age, but despite her well-earned laugh lines, she looks like a teenager, thanks to yoga and diet. I don't like looking or feeling my age, but I'm much better at whining about it than actually changing any bad habits. Still, transformation is possible till you're dead ....