When I was gardening with my mother in the front yard, planting blooming flowers or slender vines, my hands were getting the worst of it.  The result of our efforts was magnificent – or as magnificent as we could make it – and our hard work paid off.  Each morning we would have an evolving garden to look forward to.  However, at the completion of our task, we found our hands covered with mud and nails darkened with the result of our labor.  Without doubt, I was not going to march in, prop open the fridge, take out the leftovers, [...]