Four Siblings, One Summer Chore, A Lifetime of Gardens

Growing up, my siblings and I always had a summer chore list, and it often included “pull twenty weeds.” At the time, I would have much rather been kicking a soccer ball, reading a book, or even taking my turn making dinner. Weeding was waaay down on my list of summer fun. But it’s different now — I’m delighted when I have a few days in a row to spend weeding. And I’ve been wondering why I get so much satisfaction from it.

First, there’s a physical satisfaction in pulling out a weed, especially a tough one with a taproot. When you’ve done the careful work of reaching past the surrounding mulch and dirt and managed to extract the entire (!) weed, there’s a real sense of accomplishment. Knowing you’re helping the friendlier, wanted plants expand and thrive is deeply satisfying. There’s something hopeful about clearing space for the plants you’ve chosen — the ones that will feed you, bring beauty, or attract beneficial insects.

But beyond these tangible rewards, I think it’s the idea of tending, of caring, of nurturing that keeps me coming back. It’s like being a curator of possibility. Weeding forces you to slow down, to notice which plants are thriving and which need help, to see the garden as a living ecosystem rather than just a pretty backdrop. It’s a form of mindful caretaking that connects you to the rhythm of growth and the satisfaction of making something beautiful through patient, consistent care.

Looking back, I realize that what seemed like tedious childhood drudgery was actually teaching me something valuable about attention and care. Those summer afternoons spent reluctantly pulling weeds were quietly preparing me to find joy in the gentle art of tending — showing me that sometimes the most meaningful work happens slowly, one weed at a time. And ironically, my three siblings and I have all grown up to be gardeners.