Word on the street was last Saturday was Naked Gardening Day. I didn’t miss it so much as I suspected it wouldn’t miss me. I don’t have a problem with naked. I can get naked at the drop of a hat and a few other things. Whenever I have my Naked In Public dreams, I always feel just fine about it until I get to wherever I’m going and discover that nobody else got the memo. Then it’s kind of embarrassing. This is a progressive neighborhood, but I don’t know if it could provide the critical mass you need if you’re going to feel peachy about naked gardening.
Besides, I don’t want to start having to store sunscreen in a tank. And these days, the only place on me that the sun don’t shine is the acreage just south of where my tits used to be. I could scan a photo of me being both naked in public and twenty-three, and a lot of you would probably like it just fine, but there’d be hell to pay with my dermatologist.
I saw some of the photographs that are being displayed on the Naked Gardening Day websites. That’s a bunch of attractive people right there. They ain’t gardening. Clearly there are furrows to be plowed and seed to be sown, but they’re just dancing in a circle like new-age fairies, tra-la! None of them has more than one or two things on them that are at all dangly. They don’t have to worry about lopping off the bingo wings or inadvertently pruning a neck wattle.
No, there they are, posing with watering cans in a way that never gets anything watered. Gardening is about a lot more than being young and picturesque with a watering can. There are a lot of positions one might routinely get into that the neighbors might consider too much information. Squatting in the asparagus patch has a certain appeal on a personal level, but nobody wants to watch me pull out an obstreperous rootball naked. I don’t even know what’s going to happen. I got a hold of a small, unauthorized holly tree the other day that wouldn’t let go. I chopped it down to a ten-inch stump so as to get better gription on it, got back on my heels, and yanked as hard as I could. What I thought would happen was the tree would suddenly come loose from the soil and I’d go backwards ass over teakettle. Ha ha! Always a crowd favorite.
What actually happened was the stump snapped off at the roots and I plunged it into my solar plexus with all the conviction of someone committing hara kiri. It’s the kind of event that’s too embarrassing to bring to the emergency room. I’d rather just bleed out. Throw “naked” in on top of that scene and we have a real situation.
The good news is, the neighbors would probably take up a collection. The bad news is, they’d call it a “hedge fund.”
Yes, there was some news about that here, but my garden group ignored it. I also have holly trees and they are nasty, so along with the biting ants, poison ivy, ground wasps and sun, I will stay fully clothed much to the admiration of my neighbors. Those are NOT gardeners in that photo unless they were smoking what they grow.
See, if I had a garden GROUP, and everyone wanted to do it, no problem. Not that we'd get any gardening done after the fourth bottle of wine.
I'd've taken a guess, based on the sepia tone and the long blond hair of one of the cavorters (what, spellcheck? WHAT?? You'd prefer cavortees?!?), that the middle picture IS of your group. Then again, the menfolk don't seem to have enough, or long-enough, head hair to make that guess feasible. Still, would you 'fess up if that WAS your blond tush romping in the fields?
If it looked like that, yes, yes I would.
Around here it seems most of the avid gardeners are people of a certain age. Probably because they're too old to join the rest of the town biking, hiking, and iron-manning.
The images that a day of naked gardening would produce are not something I want to think about for very long.
Not to mention what the local ticks would get up to.
Or WHERE the local ticks would get up to. We don't have ticks here, at least not so many that I've ever gotten one one me. They freak me the hell out.
There doesn't seem to be much actual gardening going on in that middle picture. From where I sit, there look to be a number of bushes that could stand with some pruning.
Did you ever read my post about how the pubic louse is threatened now because nearly all the sexually active Persons Of Youth are landscaping away their habitat? Amazing.
I have a photo of Cisco Morris naked, in public, I took at a Master Gardener conference. Pootie has some competition!
I had to look him up. Seattle gardener. He must have balls.
Pootie is bear naked – EEEEK!
No naked gardening for me either. Heck, I thought I was daring to get a pair of floral capris for gardening in.
Oh I WANT floral capris! I can't seem to find capris that hit at the right spot. They're always baggy and halfway down my shins. It's all wrong.
I hear you – one of the perils of being short. But you sew, don't you? just hem them up, right below or right above the knee; those two lengths seem to work for me (5'). And if the shape still seems baggy just take in the seams wherever they bag.
I haven't worn mine yet. I'm hoping the neighbours don't scream too loudly when I do.
WELL…I sew, but I really like the idea of getting clothes that are right the first time. It was a marvel discovering Petite Pants. Before, sewing be damned, I'd just wear down the heel end of the trousers by walking on them.
Re my first comment, I just remembered Pootie is not a bear.
I am hanging my head in shame.
Pootie only really minds if people think he's a bunny.
My younger daughter has spent a lifetime wearing down the heels of her trousers by walking on them. suddenly, at 38, she calls me up to say she has new work pants and can I please come and hem them for her?
She's the youngest, right? Me too. I can totally imagine myself doing/saying that. I'm not proud of this, mind.
There are plenty of activities I like to get naked for, but gardening is not one of them.
No, I'm sorry, that is an incomplete answer. Please provide examples, with a brief description in the essay portion.
'Ass a good'urn, Murr.
I lak the way you tawk.
I would garden naked, but for the biting insects biting my more sensitive parts. I would imagine there is the added benefit of not needing a scarecrow.
I got some ants in my gardening pants today and that about sealed it for me. That particular aspect of my hippie days is over.
No naked gardening here either. Which is both self protection since I already nip, scratch and gouge various bits of myself while in the garden and community service.
However, if plants are the sensitive souls some suggest (play them beautiful music and they will grow) my naked self could make a fine herbicide. Except that the weeds would snigger and the other plants turn up their fronds.
It's possible that people like you and me would be better appreciated by the plant kingdom. You never know. (Until someone else tries.)
I am of the (very firm) opinion that the first fashion designer was one of our early ancestors, around the time Homo sapiens figured that picking grass seeds was easier than hurling rocks at sabre tooths (teeth?). See, there was the whole darn' tribe,stark naked, wading through tough, prickly grass, swarming with biting-stinging-scratching bugs. Hell! Procreation almost stopped right there! But someone came up with the idea of girding the loins. Proving that the sapiens part is accurate after all.
Oddly enough, I just saw a how-to guide on girding one's loins. And it still leaves a lot of other real estate unprotected.
I gardened professionally for 35 years and always wore sturdy clothes. Naked gardening does have a rollicking ring to it and I'm sure such clubs have formed, but gardening requires so many sharp things –I'm inclined to think members would drop off.
Oh, Geo. If only there were a best-comment prize.
Yes, if only!
Okay, then. No naked gardening for you. Mark June 27th for Portland's naked bike ride, though. http://pdxwnbr.org/
Did I see Pat in that video?? Hmmmm…
I was thinking of joining that last year, but somehow missed the date. Maybe my neighbor will remind me.
Ouch! I have seen naked gardeners and their skin looks rather worn and wrinkled. They look hilarious with wheel barrows out front.
I think rubber boots and strong cloth coverings work best to keep away pesky bugs and mites. No thanks to lyme for me.
I come to your post because you really have a way with words that appeal to my senses. Thanks for that.
You're ever so welcome, Heidrun. I'm thinking the male naked gardeners who feel the need to push a wheelbarrow are probably just braggin'.
Now if Murr is going to do the naked bike ride she should get a memory foam cushion for the seat.
What if my saddle wants to forget?
Who wants to sit on dirt naked? Really! Clothing has many functions. Now topless lawn mowing, provided one has a willing John Deere to ride, is a hoot, mostly because one can't hear the UPS truck coming up the driveway. Or so I'm told.
I'll bet he had a big package for you.
No. You didn't. But of course you would.
It snowed here on Naked Gardening Day. 'Nuff said. But I must say Pootie looks quite seductive with his strategically-place watering can.
Pootie look good in any old thing he throw on.
Albert the Alligator! Love it!
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I thought Beauregard, but I checked, and it WAS Albert…I can't trust my memory at all any more. Also, Google has decided to hate me and bollox up everything I try to do on Blogger and G-mail lately. Hence the deleted comments above.
I thought they were from guessing Churchy LaFemme. I completely forgot about Beauregard!
On the other hand Pootie looks okay naked and I'm pleased to see he's wearing sunglasses to protect his eyes.
He's kind of in trouble with Dave, who really doesn't approve of Naked Pootie. Naked Pootie takes liberties. We're going to have to get some clothes on the boy.
I am jiggy with the naked Pootie for a day or two, but geez, he'd be naked all the time if we didn't put some clothes on him.
I don't think he wears the sunglasses to protect his eye beads. I think he thinks it gives him an air of mystery.
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