You can’t turn down something that hasn’t been offered.
That’s my Dad’s advice, offered over and over again through my post-college years of job searching. He’s encouraged me to apply for the job that doesn’t make any sense, and go the direction that others would fear, or would simply be too lazy to choose. His relentless message: don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even started. I have repeated it to friends countless times.
Dad grew up on a farm in upstate New York, and he and his siblings put a premium on connecting with the earth, even as they scattered around the East Coast and the world. He tried to pass that love of the connection between what grows from the earth and what goes on the plate to me, and it took awhile for me to really get it. I understood the concept, but preferred to honor that connection by buying more vegetables and fruit at the farmer’s market than I could possibly eat. Grow it myself? Not likely.
Dad and I have never had a shortage of things to say to each other, but now that I’ve begun gardening, it’s added to the conversation. I fill him in on the latest news, often before it hits the blog, and he tells me when he’s planted his squash and tomatoes and how his seedlings are doing.
And so, in honor of Dad, I’d like to add a corollary to Pete Gratto’s job-searching advice: You can’t grow something that hasn’t been planted.
I dedicate my garden adventures to you, Dad. Happy Father’s Day.