I'm lousy at a lot of things. I am hopeless with mechanical or technological devices. I took wood shop and metal shop in junior high school and nearly brought my teachers to tears because I was so inept. The only shop I survived was mechanical drawing, and that simply because I could envision hidden lines in my head, just like I can hear inaudible voices in my head. Knowing how to change a tire completes my knowledge about automobiles, and having some ability writing with a computer pretty much fills out that part of my resume.
I don't worry too much about my ineptness because I know there are people out there who can do what I can't. Computer geeks, automotive engineers, and heart surgeons all have my respect and gratitude.
And, while I can mow grass and use a trimmer and blower to finish making the yard look nice, I do not have a green thumb. The last plant I tried to cultivate died. Who knew a cactus wouldn't thrive on Diet Coke instead of water? Go figure. But one of those people "out there" is right here, in my home and in my heart. Her name is Lisa, and she is my long-suffering wife. One of her many gifts that amazes me is her ability to stick seeds in the ground and produce a nice, tasty, healthful salad on the table (next to the sausage, of course). It might take a few days, but the raised bed garden she has created over the last couple-three years is a thing of beauty, a testimony to her skills and love for growing things, and a source of delicious food, too. I'm glad she knows how to do that.
Now, if she could only get those pineapple seedling to grow and flourish, she'd really have something.