I am not a gardener.

My friend Katie (who's from England) is a gardener. She has cute little gloves. Her flowerbeds are bright and beautiful, and her annuals generally survive the year. Katie cheerfully kneels in the dirt to weed and water her garden plots. Even when she was the owner of a giant Labrador, he seemed to leave her plants alone.

My friends Ben and Becca are gardeners. They have taken a rundown, weedy lot, and turned it into an urban slice of utopia. They are baking cucumber bread with the abundance of vegetables they've accumulated. There is a pretty patio where once was only dirt.

I am overcome with garden envy. My backyard has been conquered by three children and two dogs. The grass we used to have has given way to unbelievably tough weeds and dust. I used to blame it on the sprinklers. They gave up the ghost a few years ago, and despite spending $1000 to repair them, they still don't work. These days I like to blame the dogs. Huckleberry feels it is her duty to attack new plants. Last year I got some nice Hostas going under the tree, only to see Huckleberry viciously dig them all up. Good dog! Keeping us safe from dangerous perennials.

But I'm determined. I am tired of dirt. I am ready for life!

They say xeriscaping is the answer to lower water bills, drought, harsh winters, and low-maintenance landscapes. I checked out two books from the library for inspiration, and I can't wait for the fall planting season. Huckleberry's going to have a nervous breakdown.

From zero to xeriscape? We'll see!