BATTLE OF THE SEXES….FLOWERS OR VEGETABLES….

It’s curiously funny that in the past, he never bothered with the housework or the garden. It was my domain and sometimes nobody’s domain…..running free and unkempt. But over the last few years I’ve seen a shift in inclinations….. …..a greater leaning towards household affairs…..a slight blurring of lines…..of my duties and his duties. I’m guessing it’s because he’s preparing for retirement. He needs to re-channel all his creative activity into something…..and why not the house and I’m certainly not complaining.  

I think it all started with the garden. Some ten years ago, we purchased this old house next to ours. We rented it out for some time and then decided to tear it down and convert the plot into a garden, opening up the whole back terrace. I was really excited because I had dreams of putting in scented rose bushes and beds of colourful seasonal flowers and aromatic herbs, lavender and rosemary…..all swaying in harmony in the gentle summer breeze…..a mingling of colours and scents. The neighbours on the other side of the lane were equally excited because when they sat on their balcony, they wouldn’t have to stare at the crumbling old decrepit house that had stood there for so many years. Then the day came when the excavator rolled in and sank its huge jaws into the house, tearing it down and sending clouds of dust billowing into the air. After a week of banging and hammering the machines finally rumbled out and the lorry carried away the last load of rubble.

 The garden had two tiers with a couple of stone steps joining the two levels. It started so well, digging into the earth and planting sweet smelling climber roses against the stone walls and bougainvilleas against the fences to grow bushy and cascade down with vibrant splashes of red, pink, fuchsia and white. Nearer the back terrace we put in a fragrant honeysuckle and another climber with clusters of yellow flowers. There were already three fruit trees and we decided to put in another five. So we ended up with three orange trees, a lemon, a tangerine, an apple, a pomegranate and an apricot tree. I rubbed my hands in glee…..what next what next….rose bushes, daisies, dahlias, peonies etc etc. In the meantime Yiannis and Jimmy, his helper, were digging the top plot and planting vegetables…..one row, two rows and it went on and on…..lettuces, tomatoes, red and green peppers, chillies, aubergines, courgettes, ladies fingers etc etc. Then over the days the two gardeners stealthily descended the stone steps and started digging into the lower plot….. …..my plot….. robbing me of my flower garden before I had even started.

I was livid. I stood my ground and protested vehemently. In the meantime the neighbours were sitting on their balcony, watching the scene unfold. Yiannis and Jimmy continued digging and making placatory remarks…..` Come on there’s enough room for everything!’….. They just needed a little space in front of the orange trees for the cherry tomatoes….. and the whole length against the stone embankment separating the two plots….. to drive in the bamboo poles  for the beans….. and a little more for the cucumbers …..and that bit there for the corn…..` CORN??? WHAT CORN???’ To cut a long story short at the end of spring there was a chaotic confusion of flowers, vegetables and herbs all wrestling for space.

One month into summer when the sun blazed on our garden, they were picking vegetables every day. He would walk in proudly with baskets of produce….. a cornucopia of vegetables….. of different colours heaped up on the kitchen table and counters and stuffed into the fridge. After Jimmy’s and his mother’s kitchens were well stocked, we started distributing vegetables…..to his sister, friends, neighbours and people at work. But the veggies kept coming in and we kept giving away some more and the recipients of our goodwill and charity started shaking their heads and palms, saying……` PLEASE NO MORE! NO MORE!…..OTHER PEOPLE ARE GIVING US AS WELL! ‘…..So we were not alone….. Many women I knew complained that their husbands displayed the same tendencies….. an extension of the male genes of their forefathers…..the hunters…..once proudly dragging in the kill all bloodied and battered…..but now modified into toting baskets of produce from the land….sometimes grown to enormous sizes…..courgettes resembling butternut squashes and giant tomatoes, the size of melons. There was a woman I sat next to on the plane, on one of my trips to Brussels. She was from New York. When she and her husband retired, they decided to return to his native island in the Ionian Sea. Her husband needed to return to his roots…..and put in more roots…..grow vegetables… …so she said.  

 Then we started giving his mother more because she never said `no ‘….. and she cooked trays of stuffed courgettes and tomatoes and sent them back to us and to his sister’s and before we could take a breather, she promptly followed it up with enormous moussakas, the size of small square tables, which would last us a month of Sundays. So we gave large portions to Jimmy and the cleaning lady. A friend…..a fellow sufferer…..told me that in total exasperation, she employed punitive measures and cooked courgettes everyday, hoping to discourage her husband…..but he was delighted and grew more. In our house, the whole thing came to a head in late summer, when he started going the cruciferous way….. growing broccoli, cauliflower and cabbage, enough to supply the local greengrocer. In the warm autumn months of Crete, I sweated it out in the kitchen as I threw them into stir fries, blanched them and boiled them and even froze them and he kept nodding his head and saying we were eating healthy….. and the whole thing escalated into rows…..sharp and screechy. Then one day, as I was fishing out the florets of broccoli from the bubbling water, I saw caterpillars floating on top all boiled and curled…..I have no recollection of the nature of my verbal outburst but I think the neighbours heard me…..or at least felt the quiver in the air. The following year, the two gardeners were banished to the top plot and I started my flower garden with very little interference…..just some tut tutting on my colour coordination and choice of plants and how far apart they should stand…..and the neighbours, sitting on their balcony….. joined in.

Now that he feels hemmed in by a smaller vegetable garden, that surplus energy has gone into the house…..there’s been a unilateral reshuffling of chores. He’s totally taken charge of loading and unloading the dishwasher. He gets up earlier in the morning and prepares breakfast. I think I mentioned that in the last post. Let’s see…..what else…..Ahh yes…..I see signs of his unbridled enthusiasm elsewhere…..whenever I go out to gather the clothes I had previously hung out, I notice the intrusions, the subtle innuendoes and a show of expertise…..the clothes have been completely re-arranged…..trousers no longer hang by their waistbands but by the legs…..all shirts, tops and trousers and even underwear have been turned inside out….. Women in this age group tell me their husbands have started cooking…..YES….. he has threatened to do so and…..I can hardly wait.

See you and hope to hear your comments.