Last night I took the trash down to the curb barefoot for the first time ever. The air was cool but the concrete was warm under my feet. The bin rolled smoothly and no neighbor dogs took notice. It was a sublime moment. Apparently I have a private crew of yard workers who will just cruise into town periodically and mow and weedeat and bring me bulbs and clumps of greenery and sprigs of trees…
I’m in the process of drawing diagrams of my flowerbeds and what’s planted where. My mom and grandmother were so giddy about being here and helping me out that they’re coming back tomorrow morning, this time with my dad and a lawnmower in tow. I need the diagrams so I won’t spontaneously forget something’s brewing in the ground in a particular spot and plant something right on top of it. They brought me a good…
This bloom was a casualty of repotting.
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