When I was a little girl growing up in southern Mississippi, Garden Clubs were a big deal.  Now mind you me, I never attended one, nor did anyone in my family.  I truly had no reference to what went on behind the closed doors.  I did carefully observe my friends' moms, who actually went to Garden Club meetings.  From those observations, I surmised that you had to belong to the club, had to dress up in a pretty dress and heels, and have a bit of money or pull in the community.  The word "snooty" always popped up in my brain when I thought of Garden Club.
    I had no real frame of Garden Club reference.  My mom was an avid flower gardener with exceptional rose beds, zinnias, sweet peas, and more, but she wasn't in Garden Club.  Several brides even came to our house and begged for roses for their wedding bouquet and flower girl baskets!  Mama usually told them, "It's a deal, as long as my daughter gets to be the flower girl." (That would be me - perpetual flower girl to many a bride.)  Still, she wasn't in the local Garden Club.  I'm sure it didn't bother her, as she thought bridge clubs, Garden Clubs, and anything of the sort a waste of good time.
     So my imagination took hold and I mostly thought of Garden Clubs as a playground for rich white women in pouffy dresses and big hats.  There was no dirt under those Southern Belle fingernails for certain!
     Fast forward to a different country and continent - Uruguay in South America.  Imagine my surprise when a friend called and asked if I'd like to come to her next Garden Club meeting.  My first thought was - "Oh mylanta - I had no frilly dresses or big hats!"
     She assured me it would be casual, as we were going to tour a member's vegetable garden to learn some organic gardening tips and tricks.  "Be prepared to get muddy feet," she warned. 
     What?  Vegetable garden? Casual? Muddy feet?  I felt as if I'd fallen down the rabbit hole.  I decided to go - hey, it was a free lunch!  Knock me over with a feather - when I arrived, I encountered a bunch of women in baseball caps and hats that looked like fishermen needed them.  They wore jeans tucked into waterproof boots and sturdy jackets.  In other words, my kind of women friends!
​    And so began my Garden Club experiences.  Our club was called The Giving Tree and we took up a collection at each meeting to fund an elementary school garden, a local village garden, and other worthwhile projects.  We romped through muddy fields looking for an elusive wild orchid, trod carefully around newly planted vegetable gardens, shared seeds, plants, and love of the Earth.
     I did get to wear something pretty once in a blue moon when we would go to a restaurant for lunch afterwards, but all in all it couldn't have been more different than my misconceptions gathered over the years.
     And as for the U.S. - my perception of Garden Clubs was sorely lacking, especially in today's world.  Garden Clubs in the South have fundraisers to sponsor scholarships, establish vegetable gardens in schools and communities, and generally take on beautification of streets and parks in their communities.  
​     Who knew?