From the time I was a little boy and even now, I’m a big fan of the game Monopoly. My childhood buddy David Lee and I would play Monopoly games that could last for days. I always hoped to be the first to land on Marvin Gardens, the last of the yellow properties, so I could buy it.
Growing up, I didn’t know a thing about gardening. But that changed when Petrita entered our lives. Petrita was from Cuernavaca, Mexico, “la ciudad de eterna primavera” (the city of eternal spring), and she was the most amazing nanny on earth. Her first day with us was the day we came home from the hospital with baby Adam. We knew Petrita was a gourmet chef, but we didn’t know she was also a master gardener. One day, I came home with a couple of flats of flowers, intending to plant marigolds in some big pots and periwinkles in small pots. I was all set to plant when Petrita rushed to the scene: “Señor Marvin, you have it backwards” (she said in Spanish). She took over, teaching me that periwinkles grow tall and spread out wide, while marigolds remain low and tight. From that day on, I was the student and Petrita was the teacher.
When Adam turned two, we moved to a larger house. I was about to pull up a mess of “weeds” in the backyard, till Petrita informed me those were wood ferns and a very desirable feature in a shady garden, perennials that would come back year after year. Once again, she rescued me. It happened over and over. One day, Petrita returned from a walk and rushed back down the street with a little shovel, returning with an inch tall “weed” that is now a sky-high gorgeous redbud tree. She saw it growing in a crack in the street and told me she had to hurry and get it before someone else spotted it. I assured her no one else would beat her to it, but she wasn’t convinced. Another time she was asleep on the living room floor, and I almost tripped over her in the middle of the night. She said there was a huge tree in our backyard making a “clicking” noise that was soon to fall on the house near her bedroom. It was Adam’s Bar Mitzvah weekend, but I had to have a tree man come take out the tree the very next day. There was no arguing with her. Sure enough, the tree was rotten on the inside and about to fall on our house.
Petrita passed away about 20 years ago, but she left me a very important inheritance: a green thumb. She is with me every day in my garden. I have nowhere near her level of knowledge, but I’m lightyears ahead of where I started. For me, gardening is therapeutic and rewarding, a source of instant gratification. It’s also my time to commune with Petrita, who truly became a member of our family. I continue to enjoy the legacy plants in my yard that she smuggled up from Mexico in her bra. She’s also with me when I wield the heavy garden axe she somehow hid in her possessions on another bus trip up from Mexico.
Gardening is very metaphorical. Voltaire taught us to “cultivate your own garden.” When we seek to broaden our horizons and meet a new network of contacts, we should start first in our own backyard. My daughter Lizzy became a champion for multicultural acceptance, teaching us to open our minds and hearts to those different from us. She learned from Stephen Seleny, Headmaster at Trinity Valley School, to first really get to know those in your own sphere of influence. Then you can branch out. Cultivate your own garden before you try to reach out beyond it.
Lizzy has also taught me the importance of weeding your garden. She knows I’m obsessive about pulling weeds, but she attaches a different meaning. She texted me: “For a beautiful life and legacy, we have to take the time to weed out any life suckers. This means toxic people, toxic energy, and toxic time commitments. If you don’t stop to weed the garden, you will never have the flourishing beauty you are capable of. Weeding the garden is a metaphor for how to create a beautiful life.” On my 64th birthday, Lizzy posted a photo montage of me with the background music from the Beatles: “Doing the garden, digging the weeds, who could ask for more? Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m sixty-four?” That song describes me to a T.
My family loves to tease me about the hours I spend weeding the garden. But now Lizzy praises me: “The more success one builds, the more life suckers come, voraciously attempting to feed off that success. As the gardeners of our own lives, each of us alone is responsible for growing and protecting the garden. If we allow one weed in, hundreds will follow. Nobody can weed the garden for us. Ask yourself, what time suckers, energy suckers, and money suckers can we weed out?”
Lizzy continues: “Just as you cover plants to protect them from the cold, cover your life by acting humbly to protect it from the chill of jealous eyes.” In my post of April 18, 2023, I drew from the act of sprucing up my spring garden to recommend an estate planning clean-up. The garden metaphors go on and on.
When I’m in nature, I feel a heightened sense of civilization and peace. Catherine Sanderson reveals that those feelings put me in good company with other nature lovers. In her May 15, 2025, blog post “Why Lumberjacks, Foresters, and Farmers Are Happier Than Lawyers,” she touts “the underrated benefits of spending time in nature.” Jobs that are outside in nature produce the highest job satisfaction. Research in neuroscience proves “why people who spend time in nature experience better overall physical well-being,” as well as psychological well-being and lower stress.
Surveys show that the least happy workers are lawyers. Lawyers especially need to get out of the office and spend time in nature. My “Canoe Brother” classmate from law school Cliff Ernst agrees. We have spent hours floating along the Guadalupe River in a canoe, discussing the therapeutic benefits of being out in nature and digging in the dirt. A master gardener, Cliff recently sent me a surprise package of native Texas spiderwort he dug up from his yard so I can plant it in mine. That’s a gift that will keep on giving.
In the realm of building a lasting legacy, gardening is a great way to do something to make the world more beautiful, as I often read to my kids (and now to my grandkids) in the inspiring children’s book “Miss Rumphius.” I suggest that gardening may also be a great family-bonding activity, or at least provide next generations a memory of the old man out in his yard, sweating, but happy as ever. I highly recommend you give it a try, but since you won’t have Petrita to train you, I recommend Neil Sperry’s “Complete Guide to Texas Gardening” as the next best thing.
Marvin Blum in his garden with the treasured axe the family’s nanny Petrita brought him from Mexico (surrounded by wood ferns Petrita taught him weren’t “weeds”), about to transplant spiderwort Canoe Brother Cliff Ernst mailed him from his garden in Austin.
Our nanny Petrita was a master chef and gardener who taught us so much and truly became a cherished member of the Blum family, pictured here with Laurie celebrating Adam’s Bar Mitzvah.
Marvin (right) with law school classmate “Canoe Brother” Cliff Ernst, canoeing for hours on the Guadalupe River discussing life, the law, and the wonders of nature.