If you are going to be a curmudgeon, be a good one. No half-hearted attempts. I am developing an online how-to course on the subject so look for that soon.
But I would like to share one little piece from the coming curriculum. To be a decent curmudgeon, you have to find a few things to hate that no one else in the world would take the time to hate or even think to hate. Like apple pie, for example. Hopefully you love your Mom because if not, there goes the whole “Mom and apple pie” bit for you.
I hate apple pie but I loved my Mom so I am batting .500 on that.
But I also loathe an annual flower called impatiens. I will go out on a limb and suggest you don’t know of anyone who hates impatiens and even I can’t think of anyone else who despises them. No sense trying to figure it out. Just go with it.
Every year our flowerbeds get planted with a nice variety of annuals but eventually, they are flooded by impatiens, like way too much whipped cream on a piece of pie. The coloured ones I can almost tolerate but the white ones drive me crazy. It is like going out for ice cream and finding the shop sells only vanilla.
I complain mildly every year, for all the good it does. Sooner or later, we have impatiens.
This year, for reasons that are still not clear to me, the job of planting the flowerbeds was assigned to me. I pretended to be mildly unhappy about the order, but secretly, I knew this was my chance to set things right.
Off to the garden centres I raced. Three of them in all. The last one suited me the best. They had all kinds of pretty flowers and I set my sights on one beautiful bunch. There were several trays of them but when I returned the next day to buy them they were all gone.
I looked at others. Some were too expensive. Some needed sun, no shade, and our beds are under a maple. I finally was drawn to one section that had lots and lots of very pretty blooms. Purple, orange, red, pink and even white. The price was right. I grabbed a bunch of them.
“What did you get?” asked my wife, who has always looked after the beds, when I brought my bounty into the backyard.
“Impatiens,” I answered, and here is the reason we are still married after 31 years.
“Oh, they’ll be nice,” she said, giving up her golden opportunity to remind me of how much impatiens hating I have done over the years.
I planted them. And as flowers have a tendency to do, even impatiens, I guess, they’re growing on me. Even the white ones.
The Curmudgeon Course will be a flat $300 fee.
©2020 Jim Hagarty
