My parents were awful parents. Really. Not “my parents wouldn’t let me have desert before dinner” awful, but “make me sleep surround by cat sh!t and never bathe me or even brush my hair” awful. I was spared the physical abuse my oldest 3 siblings got (I was #5), I think because they were just too old to chase after me when I screwed up (my dad was 50 when I was born and disabled, my mom 43)…but they loved to garden. My mom had a HUGE herb garden and my dad was always in our very large greenhouse doing something. I loved that greenhouse, especially the earthy smell. My most prominent memory was when my dad decided to mess around with a Gopher Plant. The sap is toxic but he ignores that kind of information…until he got the sap on his hands and rubbed his eyes. Ever see a grown man scream like a little girl? I ran as fast as I could into the house to get my mom and dad ended up spending almost a week in the hospital, and many more weeks at home with patches on both eyes. Being the ever loving wife my mom was, she just scolded him and made the older kids take care of him. So besides the non-gardening lesson of taking care of your ailing husband better then mom did, I learned that gopher plants are not worth it even if they keep the gophers away.