1. In Cultivating Delight, the author refers to patience and persistence, fondness for ordeal, and a fascination with new customs and ideas as being the necessary calling cards of the true gardener. Why do you think this is the case, and is it true among all gardeners? What are some of the instances that occurred in the life of the author's garden where she needed to rally all of her patience, her fondness for ordeal, and her fascination with new customs?

2. Does the author ever manage to allow her human desire for order to overtake her love of the natural? If so, when? Do you think that the author feels it's possible to be a dedicated gardener and not impose order, or is order itself a necessary by-product of being human?

3. One would assume that with gardens as large and beloved as Ackerman's, that one would be dedicated to ridding it of the pests that threaten to devour it. Why is it then that Ackerman has such a high tolerance -- almost a love -- for what gardeners traditionally consider to be dangerous pests: deer, rabbits, raccoons, slugs, and weeds? Why would she consider planting an entire lawn of weeds?

4. What was Ackerman's most helpful piece of advice to you as a gardener? Has she changed the way you look at your garden, or the way you work in your garden? If so, how?

5. Ackerman frequently humanizes her garden: she speaks of its accomplishments, its "mood-swings" and chemical fluctuations, its teasing sexual habits and functions. Do you think that the humanizing of the garden will help or hinder you as a gardener vis a vis its maintenance or care? Does this humanizing negatively or positively affect the gardener's ability to perform certain tasks in the garden, for example, spreading "weed killer"? Will her humanization of the garden challenge you to think and perform differently as a gardener?