Maybe if you play in the dirt enough as a child, it sticks with you into adulthood and you feel the constant urge to play in the dirt again. Or maybe my love of gardening came from having a paternal grandmother and a maternal grandfather who were always planting, urging, encouraging, transplanting, watering, and loving on one plant or another. Where ever it came from, gardening is part of me - you could say it's grown along with me my entire life. A dream job of mine would be owning a nursery/garden center as there is nothing more calming, more beautiful and more loving to me than sticking my hands in some dirt and helping something grow from it.
Let's see if Georgia will one day feel the same way.
Some green beans, yellow squash, basil, parsley and various flowers will hopefully start poking their delicate heads up above the earth soon.
Perhaps I will plant in her heart the same love of dirt under her fingernails, a watering can at her feet, perspiration on her brow and the touch of delicate leaves on her fingertips as someone once did for me.