Down in the Weeds by Ava Gardner

At the beginning of this summer, I answered an ad for a garden help position in a list-serve for desperate students trying to earn extra cash.

I sent a text message to the number listed on the ad in the hopes that I could earn a little cash by going over to this woman’s house to help out. Oh well. You take what you can get.

Here, the response I got:

-“Sure, I’ll talk to you but DON’T WASTE MY TIME!!! I have talked to four college students already and they have all ditched me and taken other jobs. What a waste. Only talk to me if you’re really interested, otherwise find something else.”

     Whew! Someone’s upset. Was I really that interested in helping out this grumpy woman?

After receiving that message I rolled it around in my mind a few times and although a little scared, I decided to go over to her place and have a talk with her. I would be one of the good college students that was responsible, didn’t complain, and worked hard. And I wouldn’t back out. 

When I got to her house, she sat me in the backyard deck and gave me a glass of water. She didn’t hesitate to break out a pack of Marlboro Golds and while smoking them down she prodded me for an hour with questions about my life.

• “I have to spend a lot of time with these college students that I hire. Mostly I just want to make sure that they aren’t dolts. I like to have someone I can talk to while we work.”

OK, fine, I thought to myself, a little insulted by the implication that I could be a dolt myself.

I would soon find out, though, that she would be the one to do most of the talking while I sat and worked on the garden, listening to her outlandish rants.

Driving down Cleveland Avenue:

-”I am so pissed they put bike lanes on Cleveland Avenue! When the hell have you seen anyone on a bike on Cleveland?”

-”I use the bike lanes on Cleveland.” 

-”Well I guess you’re just an exception. Us on the anti-bike lane committee tried really hard to stop them from putting bike lanes in but they did it anyway. Do they even realize how much bike lanes drive down your property value?” 

On July 4th:

-”It drives me absolutely nuts that the so-called mayor of St. Paul decided to do away with our fireworks show. That is the one thing that brings all of us as a city together. People of all ages, backgrounds and colors sitting together on the banks of the river, together as a nation. Where else will children learn about civic pride?”

On responsibility:

-”So the mayor decided to get rid of library fines for the city of St. Paul. Where will children learn a sense of authority and responsibility now? If you want to check out a book, you have to be willing to pay.”

On tattoos and piercings:

-”You all can do what you like, but just think of your parents’ faces when you return home mutilated like that. If I had my way, parents would not have to keep supporting a child that does that sort of thing. Once you’re past age 21, fine, but before that it is just unacceptable.”

On humility:

-”My niece went down to study in Chiapas (horribly pronounced on her part), Mexico and she decided to stay. Now, what does that mean? She met a guy, of course. Now she thinks she knows everything, all anti-USA this and that, you just can’t reason with her about anything. You young people think you know everything, but wait until you join the working world. Then you’ll get knocked down a few rungs and realize not everything is about you.”

On the day I showed up at her house, ready to work and with a fresh new tattoo on my arm:

-”That’s a little distracting. I just can’t look at you in your face while you have that thing on your shoulder.”

So, while I did get to spend a few hours a week surrounded by plants in her freshly manicured garden, the job was never really peaceful. What I would give to work in silence. But,as I’ve learned, growing up has a lot to do with realizing the world doesn’t revolve around your desires.

She later told me that the ad she had put up online about the garden help job had received a few comments from neighbors criticizing how much she was offering to pay students hourly.

-”People were saying that I’m paying way too little for the work I need done. Don’t you think that’s ridiculous?”

-”…Yeah…that’s crazy! Who would ask for more?” (Meanwhile, thinking about how much I would love a few bucks extra bucks an hour.)

     Every time I finish a day’s work at her house, I’m sweaty, dirty and relieved.I’m starting to realize that I serve not just as a garden assistant but also as a person to talk to. Down there in the weeds, under the hot sun, the hours seem long even when they aren’t.

Pulling weeds seems like an unending endeavor. As much as we’d like them not to, the weeds will grow like they always do. And for 25 years, this homeowner has hired an endless cycle of dolts that show up to pull the weeds. So, maybe I’m just another dolt trying to complete an impossible task. But this dolt has dreams.