Why do I love gardening? Well, I have been practicing it for as long as I can remember. My parents always had a tomato and pepper garden growing up but that's not exactly where I took root.
If I reach back, deep down to my earliest conscious memories, I can remember my grandma babysitting me. She loved flowers. Not only that, she also had a much more varied garden. Cucumbers, cilantro, roses, impatiens, and more!
My wonderful grandma happily picking strawberries
I can remember my Mamá Esperanza sitting outside in her lawn chair next to my toddler self, instructing me exactly how to plant her precious fruits and flowers. It was peaceful. It was satisfying. And later in the season, I would have little fresh pepinos to munch on. I always had fun hunting for fruits in the thicket of green running along the length of the chainlink fence.
While my very young aspirations to be an artist or electrician may have fizzled out, my love for gardening never did. Why not, I ask myself. Maybe it was my love for the outdoors or getting my hands dirty. After all, I'm told I would occasionally be caught eating dirt when I was 3.
Pulling out weeds was like playing in the dirt for me. I would find weird rocks (that I later discovered to be jet) and strange arthropods I never saw at home. For me, everything about gardening was inviting; no one had to try too hard. One of my good friends said she never made her sons pull out weeds as children in an effort to not discourage them from the hobby. She then said, "And look! They still didn't become gardeners!"
The world of gardening simply is not for everyone. Being the entomology enthusiast that I am, I can't fathom how some people just don't like creepy crawlies. Some people just hate bees (and wasps). And for good reason!
Sting
I can actually remember the very first time I was stung. Coincidentally, it happened in my grandma's backyard around that same time, and judging by the files in my memory banks, it looked like a paper wasp. It was drowning in somebody's unattended soda and I reached in to grab it. Pow, right in the palm! Luckily this was some sort of family function cookout and not in the gardening setting. If it was, I might have been forever traumatized.
As gardeners, we just accept the unpredictable and volatile nature of hymenoptera (ants, bees, and wasps). I've still never been stung by an ant. The first and only time I was stung by a bee was a few years ago in Mexico. That time I may have been asking for it. I had read that when honeybees swarm and are looking for a new nesting site, they are the most docile. What a load of rubbish! As soon as I approached the writhing mass of insects I stung square in the forehead. Needless to say, I learned my lesson.
Now there are very few earthly creatures I dislike. But then there are yellow jackets (and squirrels)! I do not fear them. I have a personal vendetta against them. One summer, while working on a small farm, I was attacked and stung by those ruthless hornets no less than 4 times. They're not like their distant, docile cousins the paper wasps. The yellow jacket is fiercely territorial, and a real piece of work.
At least on two occasions, I may have been standing a little too close for comfort to their nest entrance. I imagine the darned things flying backwards, stinger first aimed at me and with fighter jet sounds. On the third occasion, it was an honest accident. I was in a grassy area and stumbled upon what I thought were flies around a dead animal and curiosity got the better of me. I may have stepped right on the nest or at least its entrance, and that really did it. Attack pheromones filled the air while all the guards engaged. I heard my manager say calmly, "Don't swat at them," I knew that but there's only so much you can do when an angry mob is flying around your head. I ran.
It's worse when you're minding your own business. Was I antagonizing the hornets? No. Trespassing? Not even close. I wasn't even drinking anything sweet! A yellow jacket landed on my arm, crawled up my sleeve, panicked, and then prick! How was that my fault‽ And if you've never been stung by a wasp or hornet, I think it's much worse than that of a bee.
That's gardening. Plants, flowers, fruit, and the occasional ouchie. I still love it and nothing could deter me. Maybe it's destiny. No, just botany. Either way... thanks, grandma.