Luminescence - Chapter 3

He leaned back against his door with that troublesome smile she was failing to understand.  She leaned back against her door, took the last sip from the water bottle, looked into those intense eyes of his, and waited for the fallout.  It didn't come.  She wanted him to say something.  He said nothing.  She wondered how long it was going to take him to figure out he had wasted his money on dinner.  She waited for an eternity, and then straightened up, reaching for her purse.

"So, tell me the rest of the story...stories."

She knew excuses wouldn't do, so she took her time.  "I thought I had it all figured out after I divorced Dave..."

"Dave?"

"My second husband."

"You divorced him?"

"I divorced them all."

"So you're set up pretty good?"

"I never asked for anything.  I just wanted to get out of the marriages and back to feeling better about myself.  Each time was like starting over again from scratch, so I guess I'm set up pretty badly from a money point of view.  I can't afford or plan on a fourth time.  I pick badly.  I don't plan on picking anymore."

He rested his arm on the seat-back and pushed his bent knuckles against his lips as he thought.  "...on picking anymore or on picking badly?"

"Both."  She watched that troubled smile grow on his face again and leaned her head back against her window, despondently.

A relationship with this woman scared him a bit, and he was trying to choose his words carefully.  "Well, that creates a problem for me.  I'm not a one night stand guy anymore.  Getting to know you better is what I would like."  She seemed to relax, twisting a strand of her hair around her finger.  He felt safe in asking, "So, am I different from the others?"

She smiled, and then her face became a little more serious.  "I didn't pick you, did I?  You're nothing like the others."

She didn't want to give him time for more questions.  "I'm going to the ladies room," and she left without waiting for a comment.

Watching her walk away from his car, he was wishing she wasn't so damn sexy.  His infatuation had dimmed after their conversation, but there was something about her that wouldn't let go of its grip.  He looked at her dog and his pup sleeping together with their stomachs grumbling off and on.  He felt a little bad about the meatballs.  Wondering what one does in cold weather with a thin skinned dog, he figured she would just say the walk was it.  Why would there be anything else.  She had a dog...she would just go home.  The rest of his day was going to be a day alone if he didn't have an offering when she returned...an offering of what?

He didn't appear to notice her as she walked around his car to her side.  She saw a surprised face when she opened her door and scooted onto the seat and glanced his way.  He remained quiet.  He appeared deep in thought even as he was watching her.  "I have a question," she began, "You're not married, right?"

"Right."

"Ever?"

"No."

"But you've dated."

He twisted his mouth a bit with that quirky smile.  She knew he knew she was on a fishing expedition, so she just waited.

"I lived with someone for a few years when I was younger.  It fell apart for me, but she didn't want to leave.  I had to move out of my own apartment and let her keep it."

"You mean the both of yours apartment?"

He looked straight into her green eyes, "Yes, I mean the both of ours apartment, but it was all my things.  I just left, but it never seemed the right time to claim the stuff later.  I guess it's all long gone now.  It's been a few years.  I don't plan on letting that ever happen to me again."  She sighed so heavily, he stopped himself and waited.

"Do you want to drop the dogs off at our homes and go to a movie or something?"  She saw that what just happened look on his face and ignored it.  "It's too cold to take the dogs anywhere, so I just thought..."

"A movie sounds good."  He smiled, "Do I have to watch a chick flick?"

He watched her eyes came alive with that cute laugh of hers.

"Probably.  Oh..."

Instantly she became so serious he thought she might  have remembered a fourth husband.

"Do you want to know my name?"

"I do know your name.  You said Ann, right?"  She pressed her lips a little too hard together and he knew Ann wasn't Ann anymore.  "So, am I supposed to guess?"

"You just looked kind of homeless.  I didn't know if I wanted to tell you my real name."  She paused, looking directly at him.  He loved that smile of hers so much that anything she was going to say next didn't matter. 

"You have to admit you look too rough around the edges, and what you see is what you get doesn't do a thing for you in ...anyway...I'm really called Jez."

"Jez.  Like in Jezi..."

"I hate that name.  It's just Jez...J-e-z!"

He laughed, "Okay, just J-e-z, Is your dog still named Charlie?"

"Yes," with that sparkle back in her eyes, "I thought Charles was dignified, but after he began snacking on garbage it became Charlie.  You know," she smiled, "he's in heaven with the meatballs, even though his stomach's complaining.  He'd adopt you in a heartbeat.  Loyalty to me isn't one of his strong-point's."

"He's some sort of terrier, right?"

"I guess.  The vet thought Rat and Jack Russell, although he's so laid back the Jack Russell part's misleading.  He's my little jackrat terrier."

"Rat Terrier makes him sound...ratty," he chuckled.

"I know.  Something to do about hunting rats in medieval times."

"Really!"

She laid her head back against her window and laughed, "Not really; I haven't a clue."

He loved that laugh of hers.

She continued, "What about your little devil?"

"Mutt!"

"Looks a little poodle-ish."

"I hope not," he laughed, "I need him to grow up big and woolly, a man's dog!"

"Standard poodles are big and woolly...real woolly...poufy woolly!"  There was that sheepish smile lighting up his whole face; then he looked at his watch and the magic was gone.  She waited, a little disappointed.  He left no wiggle room for changes of minds.  He was too practical.

They had decided on dropping off Charlie and her car first, then traveling to his apartment before the movie to drop off Lucifer.  It was a good plan until he realized she was weaving in and out of traffic like he wasn't even a thought in her head.  He hadn't asked for her address or cell number, and when the third car squeezed in front of him from her, he threw up his hands and just drove without a destination.  Noticing her little red car up ahead on the shoulder, he felt relieved until as he approached she sped out again and there was hell to pay keeping up with her.  He took a deep breath and just shook his head when she pulled into a small driveway.  He almost drove off the pavement behind her as he gawked at the jungle surrounding her house.  He was beginning to realize this lady was much more complicated than he was used to, and that fear of appearing boring began nagging him again.  He could only be himself, but he was beginning to question if that was enough.  Her life seemed much more colorful than his and much more troubled.

Her brain screamed bloody murder when his car was heading for her own lawn and gardens instead of her neighbor's, but he managed to not careen across it at the last second.  She was beginning to wonder just how old he really was, but she managed to kept her cool and smile.  She watched him exit his car, pull the seat forward and pick Lucifer up off of the floor where she presumed he fell during the abrupt stop to stay on her driveway.  She feared the poor thing was destined to suffer hurling across empty spaces quite frequently in his life with this man.  She had already, in her mind, made Josh off limits with her Charlie.

Laughing, he couldn't help himself, "you're the first person I've ever seen who can manage to have a smile on her face while her eyes are bugged in terror."  A sour look came across her face.  He was trying to stifle his laugh, but then he couldn't get his words out when he did.  "I," he chuckled a little less this time, "was blindsided by this explosion of weeds."  Her mouth opened and her eyes narrowed in on him.  It was still hard for him to breath as he continued, trying not to laugh.  "God, I didn't quite say that right. I mean, this isn't weeds is it...or is it?"  He could have heard a leaf fall to the ground in her back yard, she was so quiet; then she began to laugh and he laughed, relieved.  "I've never seen so many plants crammed into one place.  There isn't much grass."

"That's right."

"Is there grass in the back?"

"Nope."

"Pretty wild."

She smiled, "Very wild."

She tugged on the leash for Charlie to follow her and walked up the steps to her little porch with a small glider and chairs.  He picked up the small package sitting on the chair, handing it to her after she unlocked the door.  She was paying more attention to the package than him, so he asked, "Do you want me to wait out here?"

"No, you can come in."  She removed Charlie's harness and he raced around the living room a few times before settling back down at her feet.  "Is your puppy housebroke?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?" 

I'll take him out.  Where's the back door?

She was interested more in the package at this point, but she needed to pay attention to this man who was making himself a part of her life.  "To the right through the kitchen...I'll go with you."  They ventured back out into the cold, sitting on the swing while the dogs raced off into the gardens.  She had examined every side of the package, finally cradling it in her hands on her lap.

"Africa."

He glanced at her.

"It's from somewhere in Africa...the package."  She closely examined the label again.  "Accra, Ghana...Don Juan," she giggled, "Don Juan sent this to me."

He watched her smile turn to apprehension, as she slipped into deep thought miles away.  He quietly waited, then touched her hand breaking the spell and drawing her eyes to his. 

"Patrick talked about Africa, about living there someday."  She turned away.  Minutes passed as she remained silent.  "This isn't what I want in my life right now."  She sighed unhappily.  "This isn't what I want in my life."  She looked at Charlie sitting at her feet, Lucifer whimpering to be picked up, and then the package that made her feel like the past she was trying to forget was flooding back in, drowning her.  "The bastard.  I hate him."

Bread and Milk

Two slices of bread shredded into small pieces and stuffed into a coffee mug.  Add milk and a spoonful of sugar, and lunch in a mug - seventh heaven.  Six years old and the world was a giant cherry flavored lollipop.  Twelve years old and the lollipop had fractured with half of it lying at the bottom of the storm drain in front of me.  Eighteen years old and the white cardboard stem with a hint of cherry red color on the tip was all that was left.  My sugar coated world had vanished, and the free-for-all to survive for a lifetime began.

Here I am today free-for-alling all over the place, still treading water, still apprehensive about checking out the nibbles on my toes to see if all my digits are still there.  Letting go...easy to say, difficult to achieve; but I've opted for the path of less resistance, the path of non-schizoidism.  Damn all those professors, philosophers, and poets burdening me into thinking my life is terribly deficient if I choose to end all that agonizing over accomplishments that I cannot accomplish.

I live with someone who's a little bit too reckless, tiptoeing on the edge most of the time, the edge of having and oops!  A bit nerve-racking, dangerous, and downright crazy at times; but we're both survivors.  He's accepted another overseas job (I give up) with a company with the embassy in Baghdad.  I'm smiling...I really am. I caught myself almost saying I wish, but wishing is for those who have nothing better to do, and I always have something I'd better do ;)  

This perpetual teeter totter I can't escape...kill the blog...save the blog...I fear I may be all blogged out.  I'm changing the labels to just a few terms, to easily segregate the garden, pets and me posts. That list of a thousand nouns and adjectives was just a bit of an overkill.  I don't have much time for other's posts, and my infrequent visits reflect only that I need more than 24 hours in a day.  I'm dead in the water at this point.  I've not much of anything substantial to expand upon these days, finding myself for the first time in years quite speechless.  For me to be wordless about the gardens; well, let's just say the photos are beginning to look all too familiar and the writing is on the verge of repeating itself of repeating itself of repeating itself.

Disillusioned with the tremendous competition in writing these days, and the outrages costs of submissions in contests, I don't know where the next step will lead in my writing.  I've thought about just letting go of it all, but my mind trudges on creating an outline I first thought was an impossibility for this short story that's expanding into a novel.  I write by the skin of my teeth, not quite knowing where the next page will lead until I write out the rough draft and then begin editing it to pieces.  I think of my life as a bit loveless, yet here I am writing romance.  Go figure.  

Although the furniture in my study (sounds more progressive than that drudge of a word workroom) is tightly space with no room for change, I managed a small miracle and rearranged it all anyway to escape the jaws and claws of a feline with absolutely no respect for my property...the little stinkshit.  I say that lovingly :) The decision was made to use savings to make having my own computer a possibility before the year 2020.  Yeh!  It will be a Lenovo Workstation Laptop that will handle Adobe Photoshop CS6 Extended, with graphics and photo editing.  I need bells and whistles, and the laptop is more affordable than the desk top, soooo I'll live with the smaller screen.

Andee's complaining about dinner not on his plate, so I'm off to feed him before breakfast is due.  Must admit that living with a husband who is constantly surrounding himself with noise is killing me softly with no sleep when I write.  I find myself sitting at this computer into the early hours of the next day, after his bedtime, when all is so lovingly QUIET.  It's wearing me out. Sleeping through the entire next weekend sounds so wonderfully extravagant.  

    

Luminescence - Chapter 2

He'd gotten under her skin with his direct ways, and she was bummed out giving in so easily to those sad dreamy eyes of his.  She had willingly followed him to this restaurant he'd suggested even though she knew he wasn't her type.  She'd agreed to leave her car and wait in his, and looking over her shoulder at her own dog, she felt bad that he still laid motionless on the back seat where she had shoved him, even though devil pup continued to climb all over him.  Staring back at the rain rolling down the outside of his windshield she wondered when it was she had begun to become so pathetically desperate.  How was she going to eat all that food?  She wasn't even hungry.  Her feet rested on top of the pile of junk he'd tossed from the seat to the floor to make room for her Levi clad tush.  Shifting her balance, something cracked beneath her shoes, but she ignored it.  She wasn't ready to find out what a never cleaned vehicle really looked like up close and personal.

The longer he waited, the more he convinced himself that he would be returning with one expensive meal and one cheap meal to a car with only a little black curly furred pup inside.  Glancing again at his cell phone, he was stressed that his thirty minute wait had only been ten minutes so far.  Standing before the mirror in the men's room, he began to realized the magnitude of work involved to keep this lady interested in him.  It was hell convincing her to follow him in her little red sports car, then leaving it empty parked next to his.  For the first time in his single life the fear of being boring clamped onto his brain like the jaws of death spinning him out of control.  She seemed to have the upper hand, and he felt like he was running eighty miles an hour to keep up with her.  He was an idiot to think she would ever be his.

Over-thinking didn't even begin to describe her right now. Tired of waiting for a meal she didn't need, a man she didn't know, a complication she didn't want, she stared at this puppy in her lap that made her feel guilty each time she pet it.  No way was her own dog getting on her lap.  She never allowed it...never.  She had a tendency to pick hell when it came to the opposite sex; nevertheless, she was failing to convince herself that not being her type was a good thing at this point.  He was just too different.  He had already usurped her from her comfort zone, and she was mad, then perplexed at herself for choosing to still be here.  Her thoughts evaporated as the driver's door flew open and her rain soaked problem in rusty armor sat down beside her with a large bag of eats and that sweet sheepish smile on his rather old face that she found herself falling in love with...darn it!

He tossed his dog next to hers and hurriedly gave them the double order of meatballs out of the bag and hoped they wouldn't become sick.  He didn't really know women at all.  Just guessing at what she might like, he chose expensive and she seemed to be pleased with the veal dish he pulled out of the bag for her.  He looked at his spaghetti with regret, but he knew she was worth it, he hoped.  He fished a bottle of water from the floor and opened it for her, setting it in the bottle holder between them.  He thought all women liked to talk, but she said nothing.  He could hear himself chewing his salad. It was driving him nuts.  He wondered if it was driving her crazy. 

"Do you walk that park often?"  What a lame way to start a conversation.  He could kick himself, but he just looked at her hoping she would simply answer and be done with it. 

"I haven't been there in years.  Not since...well, let's just say it's been a long time before I had another dog to walk.  I never like walking alone.  What about you?"

"Never been there before."

She looked at him, "Like two ships passing in the night."  She was surprised that dorky phrase escaped from her lips.

He grinned.  "Kind of...but it's the pup to blame.  I'm not much on hiking."

Instead of answering, she ate a spear of asparagus, drank a sip of water, and looked back at him with those killer eyes.  "I love hiking, but I don't do it as often anymore.  Do you still work?"

"Retired, but I work for myself."

"Oh, at what?"

Why did he always do this to himself?  Always having to explain the absurd.  Why couldn't he be normal and not raise eyebrows.  "I scoop up dog poop for clients.  Sorry."

She looked at him with her veal speared fork hovering in front of her opened mouth.

He thought she was going to be froze there for eternity, but she suddenly smiled and ate the piece of veal.

"Must be good business.  Lots of dogs out there and they all shit, I mean poop."  He laughed and she was beginning to feel comfortable with him.  "Cleaning up dog poop...the one thing I hate about dogs.  I'm not really a dog person.  I'm just a sucker for a cute face on a homeless mutt."

"Lucifer's my first dog, but he's in my life to stay, so I guess I'm a dog person.  Cats...that's a different bag of problems.  Can't stand those little monkeys."  He thought the sparkle dimmed in her eyes and wondered what he had said wrong.  "What?" he cautiously inquired.

"Nothing.  So, what else do you like in your life besides dogs?"

He looked at her still wondering.  "I'm flexible, I can adapt to anything, and still like it, probably.  I like to shoot, not cats of course", he grinned, but she didn't so he knew he was digging a hole for himself.  Changing the subject was his next best choice.  "What kind of work do you do?"

"Not the kind I would like.  I'm a secretary.  No, well...sort of a secretary.  I do everything and more than a secretary would do."  Her voice trailed off.  "I'm a ....."

He bent closer so he could hear her better.  "You're what?"

Annoyed, "A clerk!" she blurted out a little too loudly.  " I'm just a clerk."

He watched her with her lips curled inward as she picked at what was left on her plate.  Pulling a small carton out of the bag that sat next to his feet, "I took a chance and got you a little something for dessert."

The tiramisu was convincing her he was a keeper...she was in heaven with each savored bite.  "This would be perfect with a cup of cappuccino."  She smiled at him, wondering if he still was interested in her. 

"Next time", he smiled.  "So, where does my just a clerk work?"

She wanted to end this line of questioning, but she answered.  "At a park north of town."

"Wow, that must be exciting!"

"It isn't."

"Oh."

"I guess if my desk were out in the middle of the forest in perfect weather with a canopy over it to keep the ticks from dropping onto my head it would be nice, but I sit in a stuffy building no bigger than a suitcase in front of a computer all day answering the phone, making everyone else happy and never myself, so it pretty well sucks."  She stopped herself and looked into those troubled eyes of his.  "It's not all that bad.  I just thought I would have more than that by now."

"My sister said the same thing when she was alive.  She told me she was raised to find a husband to support her, then kicked out by our parents to survive on her own.  She had a hard time, but she was my little sister.  I would have done anything for her and I did."  He put the empty cartons back into the bag on the floor and looked sadly out the drying windshield. 

She knew she shouldn't ask, but she needed to know.  "What happened to her?"

He still stared at the windshield and answered, "She died in a car wreck.  Her drunk husband killed her."  He shifted his body to face her, and with his right hand pushed a wisp of her hair from her face and smiled.  "Have you thought about going back to school to compete for a better job?"

"I did with my last husband, but he wasn't interested in helping me.  I haven't been able to afford it yet on my own."

"You're last husband?"

"Yes."

"Last husband...not ex-husband?"  He watched her, but she just sighed and turned away from him.  He leaned towards her and whispered, "I'm not going to like you any less.  I've already gone beyond that."

"Three."

"Three?  Three what?"

She turned her head and felt her cheek brush against his.  "Three husbands.  I've had three husbands."

The Life of Wild Abandon

It's hard for this gardener to exclaim I'm done, finished, the end...kapoot!  There's always one more task to complete. ALWAYS, ONE MORE DEED TO BE DONE!  The life of wild abandon gives common sense a swift kick in the pants whenever we try to make the last tweak to the beds really the LAST fine tuning to the gardens.

There's always that one patch of demonic ground that grows nothing but dirt.  I've lost count how many leafy tykes just gave up the ghost or sprouted legs and traipsed over to the bed next door.  The next thing I'm planting in that barren unhallowed ground is a concrete statue, so there!

Veggie gardens - on a learning curve from zero to one hundred, I guess I'm at rock bottom working my way up.  Leaf lettuce needs to be picked first thing in the morning before it loses its crispness and posture.  When watered it flattens across the ground, so if you forgot to pick before watering, you're having no salad tonight. Takes it a good 24 hours to perk back up again and laugh in your face.

Cucumber will grow in a pot next year...one plant...one pot. Grabbed the stems of that billions of hairy stickers monster with gloved hands and choked the living daylights out of my Kudzu Want-A-Be before stuffing it into the trash bag and breathing a sigh of relief.

Green beans growing up corn stalks...southerners...scrub that thought right out of your noggin with a double dose of soap.  I've concluded this is a desert suggestion that totally belongs only to deserty places.  Grieved that my green beans had nowhere to go, I was soon rejoicing as the latent corn stalks shot up to the heavens.

Green bean tendrils in masses of hundreds (I only exaggerate an ennie tinnie bit) curled around those stalks tighter and tighter, weightier and weightier, until the stalks leaned to the left, more leaned to the right, then the tops began to break off.  Cutting all those tendrils and un-wrapping their death grip took hours...sooooooo...the only beans this year will be the ones in my dreams.

Corn; well, I'm sharing some eats with husband, and some munchies with the Virginia Tiger Moth Caterpillar.  I don't see where these cuties do much damage, so I just let them be.  It's easy to cut off the very top of an ear of corn they might munch on, so I just live and let live.

My dog's a carrot eater, but he turned up his nose at my homegrown orange roots; that little stinker.  Their tasty and I shared their tops with two Black Swallowtail Caterpillars until they disappeared as some bird's lunch - tough being so low on the food chain.

Carrots aren't native.  Giving Black Swallowtail Caterpillars a fighting chance seems like a cause worthy of these gardens, so I googled native eats for them.  I found wildflower annuals listed that no one in their right mind would ever plant in their garden, so I searched the Shooting Star Nursery Catalog and found Golden Alexander, a nice perennial native wildflower belonging to the carrot family.  While not considered invasive, it does love to fill up a space.  I pray this isn't going to be my 631st mistake with this yard.  Giant Purple Hyssop caught my eye also and will be added to these gardens, just because it is in danger of disappearing from existence.

When is enough, enough?  When the Carolina Rose is succeeding in its quest of taking over the garden :(  It's cardboard collar time to protect neighboring tykes, and Roundup, baby, Roundup...one of the very few times Roundup rubs elbows with these gardens. And speaking of Roundup...have you noticed since the beginning of time how the sprayer on premixed bottles of this lethal stuff always leaks onto your hand when pumped?  Do you think Monsanto cares?

Golden close of the day

No Man's Land

There's a spider in the yard, he-he-he...not even close...a gazillion bazillion spiders in the yard might be a little nearer to the truth of arachnids on the move or just hanging out in these abundant gardens.  Daylight roamers and spinners real estate is visible to the clever eye, and makes head-on and under-foot collisions a seldom occurrence; but those nighttime fly byes on silken threads and the industrialist orb weavers attaching anchors across vast reaches of space and connecting it all, at amazing speed, with many circles of death...mesmerizing!

With flashlight in hand, I watched the creation of such an orb web early one night and again before daylight I watched the same spider take the entire web down and hide under a leaf at the dawn of the new day.  The greatest teacher of life is life itself, and one of the greatest lessons I've learned of this eight legged eight eyed little beastie is STAY OUT OF THE YARD AT NIGHT if you don't relish sharing the territory on your face with it.  It's no man's land out there after the sun sinks below the horizon.

Hibiscus moscheutos

Rose Mallow

Luminescence - Chapter 1

She caught his attention the moment that terrier ran across her lap, and bolted out the car door dragging its retractable leash.  The dog was running in all directions as she reeled him in and cupped his chin between her slender hands, saying something that immediately froze the terrier in place. He wondered what it was.  She looked to the left, sighed, and scanned to the right as her lips pouted a bit at the lack of options, he thought, until she was looking towards her right shoulder and straight into his eyes.  Her face softened as those gray green eyes looked at him a bit too long.  He wondered if she was as pretty as he thought she was behind all that peppered silver hair the wind was blowing across her face. She smiled so briefly that it almost wasn't a smile and began to walk away towards the far end of the footpath, but he could still feel the warmth of that slight acknowledgement that seemed to wrap around him with the strangle hold of a thousand feet of duct tape.  He was hooked. 

Her distance from his was widening to the point of not even trying, but he was determined.  He rushed from the bench, but was jolted to a stop by the yelp of his pup as it was catapulted off the bench into midair and dropped onto its side with a thud.  Smothering it with apologies, he scooped up his trembling pup, tucking it under his unzipped jacket with it's leash dragging across the ground.  He glanced back down the path and saw her standing there, facing him, and watching.  He felt like he was on fire as he stared back at that inquisitive face for the shortest time that seemed forever, and then began to follow in her footsteps.  He wondered if she was going to wait until he reached her, or if she would turn her back to him and continue on...his mystery woman, her dog, and him not by her side.

The wind picked up in errant gusts across the lake cutting through her jacket like it wasn't even there.  She knew if she was shivering, her dog was freezing.  She glanced down at him and sighed knowing she had made the wrong decision. Tired of the guilt caused from ignoring her own dog, she convinced herself that a cold day was much better than no day at the park, but this guilt of extreme cruelty she was now experiencing was suffocating her.  She glanced at that empty bench, at the unpretentious man clumsily tucking his whimpering pup inside his jacket under his arm like a bag of potatoes, and wondered for half a second if the pup was indeed okay.  She looked back down at her own thin skinned cowering terrier, and knew if she didn't hurry up and get moving, she would be doomed to carrying him in her arms also.  She zipped her jacket the rest of the way up, and began walking as fast as she could to put the nightmare as far behind her as possible.

He pretended he was the epitome of ruggedness with a shadow of stubble he was too lazy to shave this morning, and dirty jeans he forgot to wash last night.  The left side of his jacket wrapped securely around his half-pint pup was warm, but the right side was flapping wildly in the wind as he trampled down that lonely path with all the vigor and determination of a person trying not to freeze to death.  He sighed and imagined he probably looked quite bad.  He glanced up and stopped.  His face abandoned all semblance of hope and almost became one with the dark side.  Rapidly scanning the parameter of his surroundings suggested the area was his alone, but that couldn't be true, could it?  Time had to be in his favor.  She couldn't have doubled back that quickly, could she?

She was out of breath and only half way up the hill to that building at the top and shelter.  She knew she should have just walked back the way she came, but she was determined to not ever meet up with that bum who should never been allowed to own a dog in the first place.  She was breathing so hard that her throat felt parched, and the cold air she was sucking in made it hurt.  All she could think in her misery was she should have peddled her exercise bike more often.  Who was she kidding?  She hadn't peddled her exercise bike for months.  She became bored with it all and gave up.  The leash tightened around her legs and she was falling against the cold hard ground as the thought of broken teeth caused her to lift up her head and land hard on her side. Her abrupt outcry vanished instantly from her numb lips, swallowed up by the cold, gusty wind.

He turned to face the ridge to his right and hastily looked up the grassy incline to above the stand of trees where he caught sight of his mystery woman sitting on the ground resting.  Man, she's a tough cookie, he thought.  The closed visitor's center was above her at the top of the hill.  At least he thought it was closed.  It was mostly glass, but the glass always revealed only a few displays that lived in a room whose lights were always turned off and whose doors were always locked.  He was guessing it was her destination.  His nose was beginning to numb, and he was cursing himself that he had nothing to stop it dripping except his shirt collar. He sighed, clinched his teeth, and started up that grassy incline; but he was straining with his puppy throwing him off balance.  He let go of the pup, and as it eagerly worked its little legs up the hill, barking and tugging at the leash for him to keep up, he began to wonder just what in the hell did he think he was doing.  She was a mystery.  He might never catch up with her and she'll remain a mystery forever.  Then again, he might catch up with her and wished he hadn't. He might later regret the entire day.  Crap!  What the hell was wrong with him?  They didn't even have a relationship and she was already driving him crazy.

She couldn't stop shaking.  The cold was too intense for her to linger any longer.  She tried to stand up and found herself on all fours without anything to push herself up except her aching knees.  She wanted to collapse in a defeated heap, but the puppy man she didn't care to meet was zigzagging up the incline towards her at alarming speed.  She wondered just how crazy he really was.  He seemed to be following her, but she knew it was only an illusion.  There was nothing about her that would excite any man, absolutely nothing. The pain made her feel like her hip was on fire as she stood up, then painfully made her way towards the top of the hill. She was aware her dog was no longer with her.  She didn't care.

He knew he had been bent over with his hands clasping his knees for too long trying to catch his breath, as his pup and the terrier kept tugging on their leashes and whimpering incessantly.  He admitted to himself that no pretty woman in her right mind would ever look at him even once if she had a choice.  He wished he had stayed home and slept in, but he hadn't, and now he had an extra dog on his hands.  He slowly straightened up to a view of the empty parking area and was alarmed at the heavy darkness of the noon day sky. Drops of icy rain were stinging his face, as he scooped up his pup and hurriedly followed the terrier's unreeled leash to the sheltered entrance.  He knew the stupid place would be closed and he hadn't been disappointed.

Pressed against the wall with his eyes shut, he leaned his head back with a sigh.  His eyes flew open as the leash reel was ripped out of his hand pulling him forward and into the hypnotic power of those gray green eyes, those beautiful gray green eyes that stared at him like cold liquid glass.  He wanted so desperately to say something clever, something that would make her smile, but no words formed on his lips. He wondered how long he could stare at her before she decided to escape to her car, but she just stood there.  Was she going to open those bare lips and say words he wanted to hear, or crush all his hopes dead.  He could see her face mellow as she looked to the ground, then back up at his face. He thought it was over when all that managed to escape from his lips was "Hi.  I'm Josh", and hugging his curly, black pup to his face, "And this is Lucifer."  She relaxed and continued to stare at that sort of handsome wrinkled face and wondered, who in the hell names their pup Lucifer?

The Gardening Guru

With little time to spare, a pocket full of moths, and an inquisitive, chaotic mind; I did what any workaholic would do to themselves.  I signed up for the Master Gardener's class the agriculture extension was teaching that year.  Not satisfied with just deleting another relaxing evening of house cleaning in my week, I dragged husband along wiping out another relaxing evening of tv watching in his week.  Wahoo!

Looking forward to rubbing elbows with gardeners of like skills, I dreamed of becoming an official expert...a know-it-all in the universe of plants.  Learning nothing I hadn't already taught myself since acquiring a home and yard, the classes became excruciating, except when I dosed off a time or two.

With certificate well-earned for enduring hours of teachings that weren't options for my situation, I was an official expert of the green.  A black cloud instantly mushroomed over my noggin, and I swear lightning was crackling throughout it, when I discovered advice given in the master gardener capacity, had to be recommendations the master gardener's program accepted; including pesticides, insecticides, fungicides, and herbicides.  Finally, after a long powwow with my inner self, I agreed to be a trader to my cause and get on with being a nifty master of gardening.

The master gardener meeting each month was packed with wonderful people, exciting presentations and programs, and always a potluck dinner which agreed 100% with a husband whose only mastering skill after all those classes and certificate in hand was pulling pesky weeds and a few of the good guys. His credibility as a guru of the green never came into question. He was the best little weed picking picker this side of the Mississippi.

A competitive climb to the top of the ladder type of anal retentive person, I soon latched onto the president of the group.  She was ancient, a bonafied master, and the most interesting person I had ever met.  Tucking me under her wing, she became my cherished mentor.  She requested a look at the records I kept of my gardens that were in their early stages of being native organic.  I had a detailed map of front and back gardens with every plant and hardscape detail drawn to scale ( doesn't everyone do this?), and booklets that were created to hand out to inquiring minds of my obsession.

This little gray haired lady who thought purple the only color worth having, pushed me to excel.  I swear she had a whip snapping behind us whenever we slowed down a bit with all that dag gum nabbit weed extracting week after week.  Whatever happened to just sitting in the extension office answering all those inquiring phone calls?  I was perturbed that the position most people saw me in was with my sweaty head just short of being tucked in-between my legs and my patootie stuck up in the air.

The next spring, uninterested in another weed picking massacre, I was hoodwinked into accepting the vacated tree chairperson post. Okay, perhaps I hadn't mastered everything in my quest to be the wisest of instructors.  The two sick apple trees that came with my yard were mysteriously murdered (who? me???), and I'd never planted a tree in my life except the peach tree I blasted to smithereens when I couldn't keep up with the black rot patrol. No matter, she said, you'll learn as you go, he he!

Among the masters, competition was fierce to win that coveted document declaring one to be the best of all the rest in a given month.  Personally, I swear there were a few skunks in that group padding their hours of service, cause I worked mucho quadrupled excessive hours each week and only received one of those worthless documents.  Of course, I felt elated in my ten seconds of glory when my name was shouted out.

Soon acquiring some expertise at the hoodwinking game myself, I managed to sweet talk the ag center city arborist into working with me and my tree gang.  We were in charge of two tree inventories for two different historical gardens striving to become arboretums.  He took my rather large group (surprised even myself on my effectiveness in recruiting), and spent too many days of his short lived summer dragging us from one tree to another until we knew everything there was to know about classifying trees.  And here I thought a tree was just a tree...dummy me!

Lucked out on the tour of Vanderbilt University Arboretum. Managed to con them out of seven guide booklets for my group, but bummed out in that my group was three times that size, so the seven fifty per book for the rest of the group left me teary eyed poor.  No matter...we all were one large family that day, and we stuck around for hours with the help of one lady's husband who unofficially became our knowledgeable guide.

I kept my group and husband active all summer, a blast from the first spring flower to the fall of the first snowflake; but I was running on empty, and all that planning and executing was burning me to a cinder faster than a starving tick running out of options.  I was still pulling all those blasted weeds, attending meeting after meeting, working fair ground garden shows, prepping and displaying my yard in the garden tours, cleaning house, working yard, 8 to 5 job, caring for pet dog on her last leg...then snap crackle POP!!! it was time to escape to a life of my own.

Husband wasn't too keen on sticking around with all those masters of the herd without this burnt out chick along for the ride.  Blamed for ruining his weed picking  green thumb adventure as a cool master of the gardens, I moved on with life in my own little seventh heaven, while he vegetated once again in front of his beloved tv.  So there you have it...two peas in a pod...struggling through a great gardening adventure with a smidgen of disappointment thrown in.    

Welcome to the veggie patch, where the rain never ends until one has no time to water; wild critters line up for two pieces of the pie; and misbehaving plants forget to read the fine print on the back of their seed packs.

Corn and runner beans

on a mission to reach the moon

Left to right...Radishes and Petunias,

Leaf Lettuce, Carrots, Basil Plants, and Cucumber

Cucumbers after half of stems cut off.

Yikes! I wonder how many cukes one can actually eat in any given day.

Just Another August Day

Bottlebrush Grass

Hosta Halcyon

Cardinal Flower & Joe Pye Weed

Lovely Belladonna Lily

Wild Coneflower from Back Yard