My mom, grandmother, and youngest nephew rolled in to town today just before I had to leave for work (booo work), and unloaded an SUV full of garden tools and bulbs and bits of rooty green things they’d plucked from the Triple T Farms soil. I gave them the grand tour of the house and we made several rounds through the yard, my mom and grandmother rattling off names of plants and trees I would have otherwise never been able to identify. (Turns out I got a real vinca problem, which is funny to me because I had three potted vincas at the old apartment and just loved them for their robustness. I didn’t even recognize them in their wild voluntary form.) I regaled them with tales of woodland creatures — including Hans the chipmunk — frolicking in my grass. My grandmother informed me that if I didn’t get a handle on my ivy, it would soon enough overtake my house and eventually my vital organs. Noted, Grandmaw. Noted.
I hated to leave them while I went and slaved for The Man on such a beautiful day, but they apparently passed their time by doing free yardwork for me, and I came home to daffodils on the side of the driveway, hosta in the shady bed behind the second bedroom, cannas along my fence, and a rain tree out front. Holy hell.
And then, of course, there was this note, from my nephew, who had earlier in the day offered to “take care of” Hans for me. “I dunno,” I told him. “I’m not sure he’s a pest! And he’s really cute!”
The youngest nephew has clearly been working on his Googling and master-persuader skills.
Oh shabbaz, that’s so cute.
@Ammy
He is a charmer, that one.