Which is all just back story to explain why I have a huge box of notebooks in which are recorded my entire life. I stumbled on the box the other day, start flipping through that first notebook, and found this entry from when I was 5 years old:
8 August 1988
My flowers are growing well. The sweet peas are the tallest and the portulaca are the smallest. The marigolds are in between.
Yep. Already gardening. Not much has changed, only I know now not to try and grow sweet peas in August in Maryland (where we lived at the time).
And it sort of came out of no where. Gardening is not one of my mother's many super powers, though she often tried. With results as indicated by the rest of my entry for that day:
Mom's strawberry patch grew 5 strawberries