In my case, though, growing things is out of the question. I don't have just a black thumb; I've got the Hands of Death. When it comes to keeping plants alive, I am two with nature (phrase plagiarized from Woody Allen).
Weeding, though - well, there's my niche. Die, unwanted plants, die! My gardening time is weeding time. Tom won't allow me to weed IN our plot, because I'm likely to take out the good stuff, too, but I can rip it up as much as I like elsewhere.
And I have plenty of rip-it-up experience. Our original yard at Aloe House was a monoculture of burr grass, which I pulled out by hand ... twice. The first time was to plant "good" grass, which quickly succumbed to the hardy native prickles. The second time I weeded with greater destruction in mind: After it was done we laid down landscape fabric, then topped it with gravel. I like gravel. You don't have to mow gravel.
These days I put my weeding expertise to work for Tricycle Gardens, where we rent our garden plot. Everyone there has a "community" job, and mine is to keep the small brick patio free of weeds. That's what I've been doing the past couple of mornings. It's hard work, but it has its pleasures, one of which is that thoughts can run free during the process.
One of those thoughts has been the similarity between weeding and editing. Like attacking weeds, editing is at first daunting. A careful reading is to the mind what all that bending and pulling is to the body. If you try to do either job too fast, you miss things - roots or nuances. And there are actually several processes at work. Some weeds pull out with a quick tug; others need to be jiggled free, and "runners" require their own technique. Likewise, typos are easy, tense and agreement issues require more attention, and catching the use of passive instead of active verbs requires a special mindset. I was once instructed to edit with a scalpel, not an ax. I apply the same principle to my weeding.
And when the work is done, oh, how satisfying! A clean brick patio, clean and punchy writing. Yes. Even though I can't grow anything, sign me up for that Writers-in-the-Garden group.