Aging Et Al

Here’s a topic I don’t often see discussed. The issue of retirement for gardeners and how unviable it is. Also for that matter how other life changing events that might happen like injury/sickness impact our ability as “hands on” workers to remain effective at our work AND survive. Again, I’m talking about anyone working in the horticultural industry, specifically dirt gardeners.. and the fact it is so badly paid that any idea of paying for income protection/private pension/life insurance is laughable!

The point I’m raising is that the profession is so poorly paid that there is no way to protect yourself from poverty if you physically can’t do things for a while. Since the act of gardening is such a physical thing most gardener’s bodies are mostly ruined by the time they hit 45 and speaking as a female I’m pretty sure our position becomes even more precarious should we leave our positions “later on” and look for work elsewhere. I’ve got a hunch that unless you’ve managed to carve out a particularly “connected” niche in horticultural circles your chances of being employed in another physical dirt gardener position after the age of 40 drops off a cliff! I might be wrong, but would be an interesting survey for someone to do. I’m basing my hunch on the fact there are so few female head gardeners of that age, who you’d presume would naturally rise to a head gardener position just like blokes do with experience and years in the job.

Then there’s retirement when it comes, IF we don’t have to be written off before then due to severe joint problems. There is no way that any of the gardeners I’ve known earned enough to tuck away money into a private pension. Many of us will barely get a state pension if they still exist by then. There is NO way of “feathering our nests” when the time comes. Personally, my old age is looking pretty grim and I’m lucky because I have a fairly secure rental home.. but NOTHING is certain. It’s partly why I’m trying so desperately to try and carve out a way of making a little bit of money from something I can literally drag my arse down the hill to, on my doorstep, for when I can’t physically do all the other stuff.

Horticulture/gardening, is a precarious career. You have to be born lucky, get lucky, or get content with the idea of a bit of discomfort in old age or sickness. I think that’s why all the proper old gnarly gardeners you meet, dragging themselves round with bits hanging off and fingers all at angles are all such cantankerous, moany, angry, cynical bastards.

I’ve decided to prepare my defence early.