The story
My mother spent an hour in the garden every single day.
When I was young I thought this was a waste of time.
The garden was small and produced almost nothing useful.
A few tomatoes, some flowers, one tree that never gave fruit.
I once asked her why she did not simply buy tomatoes.
She laughed and said I had asked the wrong question.
Last year I moved into a flat with a small balcony.
For no clear reason, I bought three plants.
I killed all three within two months.
I had watered them too much, or not enough, or at the wrong time.
I bought three more and read about each one first.
They are still alive, and one of them has flowers.
I now spend about twenty minutes on the balcony every evening.
I am not growing food. I am doing the one thing in my day that cannot be hurried.