Ever the dutiful son, I called my mother this evening to wish her a happy Mother’s Day.  We chatted pleasantly about several topics including her experiences with gardening.  I have recounted one of these from my point of view (see March 28, 2012) and my mother essentially concurred with my account.  She added, though, that what really made her angry, those many years ago, was that while constructing the garden beds, my dad and I had trampled the nasturtiums she had recently planted in the area.  Strangely, I have no recollection of this!  I do remember that the nasturtiums turned out just fine (and I admit that my vision is often rose-colored).

Mom also pointed out that although she instigated the garden project, planned the plantings, harvested the vegetables and cooked them for dinner, it was my dad who had done most of the fertilizing, watering, pruning and other tasks that are vital to a successful and productive garden.  It was a sweet Father’s Day wish from my mother on Mother’s Day.

When I described the status of the garden and the fact that the parsley and cilantro had not yet sprouted, my mom commiserated and noted that parsley must go through hell and back before it germinates, a saying I had not heard before.  It turns out that if the parsley germinates after just one trip to hell, you can consider yourself lucky.  Depending on what you read, up to nine visits are necessary.  Regardless of the number of trips (and ignoring the implications of its free passage into and out of hell), parsley takes a long time to grow.

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