Dang, I can’t believe I missed Naked Gardening Day. It was September 10. To think I probably kept my clothes on all day that day. Well, mark your calendars for next year–it’s always the second Saturday of September.
I could give you a long list of reasons why I don’t garden naked, and none of them have to do with modesty. They mostly involve sunburns, bug bites, scratches from thorns, accidents involving tools, sore knees, and the like. But in the spirit of the thing, I will share a Partially Naked Gardening story with you:
Last weekend, I came in from a long day of hardcore, muddy, dirty gardening. It is my custom to come in the back door and shed my gardening clothes in the laundry room so that I don’t track dirt all over the house. So I did that, and went upstairs wearing–well, almost nothing. I got a bath started and went into Scott’s office to say hello. He looked up from his computer, pleasantly surprised to see his almost-naked wife standing there. However, the expression on his face quickly turned to horror.
“What?” I asked
He just pointed.
“What?” I said again.
“A spider just dropped out of your hair,” he finally managed to say.
It was just a little spider, and I guess it had managed to attach a web in my hair and drop slowly down to the ground. I couldn’t find it afterwards; it may well be wandering around Scott’s office still. He was absolutely horrified and banished me quickly to the bathtub. I tried to convince him that I was just trying out my Halloween costume; he was unimpressed.
The moral of this story is that I am enough of a horror when I come in from a day of gardening clothed. I don’t even want to imagine what I’d look like…well. You know.
By the way, if you’re uncomfortable with the idea of viewing photographs of naked people gardening, or if you’re at work and you fear company policy might prohibit such a thing, please do not visit:
Thanks to Tacoma Gardener for pointing this one out.