Teamwork
A plan came together yesterday. I washed last week. Had an orphan sock. I put it on top of the dresser. I knew its mate was off gallivanting, maybe out with a pair of jeans or random tee shirt. Yesterday, after a shower as I pulled on one of those tee-shirts, there was company in one of the sleeves. It was the prodigal sock. Killing a fatted calf was too messy. So, I put the pair back in the drawer and fried some bacon.
This all happened in the evening after a satisfying day of mowing, trimming, and edging. No more fuzzy edges. We’re all ship shape. I even have a new supply of trim line and a new can of stabilized fuel. I can go out of town with peace of mind. There is still painting to do, and I shall do it. That will take considerably more girding of the loins and requires slightly warmer weather, and it wasn’t really part of yesterday’s plan anyway. Yesterday was about grass, weeds, and leaves.
At the end of the day, I stood in the shade of the Eve’s Necklace, and looked at its shadow casting out along the drive. It’s a good thing because, when the hot summer sun comes, there will be shade on the drive and the drip line of the big oaks will hold just a bit more moisture, and the big trees can thank the little tree. And maybe one day the canopy of the big tree will return the favor and offer the little tree a bit of respite from the sun as a way of saying thanks for the help in the early days.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale