Last year I sat on my deck once. One single time. I was either too busy, it was too hot, it was raining, I was hiding from the goats. This year I have been enjoying it immensely because I have remedied three of those problems - goats gone, canopy in place. And I have surrounded it with flowers. And tomatoes - old habits die hard.
|Pansies, dahlias, hanging verbena,|
tomatoes, lemongrass, rosemary
|Mosquito geranium and two plants to|
be put in the ground. Giant, scary hops vine
lurks in the background...
|Mustard greens are new to the garden|
this year - with the first kale!
All these "Great Aunt" memories conjured up one of my own. My Great Aunt Edie, she of knitting fame, lived next door to us for a period in my teenage years. My paternal grandmother had moved in with us and that strained our limited bedroom space. So my sister and I moved next door and lived with my aunt. She was a stickler for neatness - those German genes - and my sister and I had to dust and vacuum our bedrooms on a regular basis. After one such cleaning frenzy, I was walking downstairs with the vacuum cleaner, when I got my foot tangled in the cord and went ass over teacups down the stairs, landing in a heap at the foot of the stairs - vacuum cleaner held upright. My aunt and her group of knitting ladies were in the living room. As I gazed up, I beheld five faces - mouths open, needles frozen in mid-stitch. I untangled myself, rewrapped the cord, said hello (we minded our manners back then), and trotted to the closet and put the vacuum away. I don't think they started breathing again until I walked out the door. I wouldn't care to repeat that trick today. I may save the vacuum cleaner, but I doubt if I would be trotting anywhere.