I was having one of those days. One of those days that creep up on you. One of those days you could do without. Even a shirtless Ryan Gosling would have trouble putting a smile on my face. I’d promised Nae, one of my friends, I’d help plant her spacious front yard with those foreign-sounding plants she’d purchased from Coco’s plant festival.
Lots of hard dirty yard work is a sure fix for changing moods. Birds singing, flowers blossoming, lots of sun, a good friend close at hand, and the other sounds of summer swiftly making way for the quiet of winter. Nae’s husband measured, according to the plans Coco had drawn up, where each plant should go and posted a small orange numbered flag. I’m jealous. She’s never made a blueprint for me. My garden is categorized into two types of plants — living and dead. Planting to me means filling in the holes.
“I need six Philadelphus micophyllus,” Nae counted on her diagram. We wiggled between the scattered potted plants on her patio. Neither one of us spoke plant. She pulled out her printed Word document — column one with plant name, column two containing a graphic she’d stolen from Google images. Nothing looked like the picture. We picked up each pot and squinted in the sun to read the label. “Desert Snow is the common name.”
Would you have recognized the Philadelphus micophyllus in their naked state?
“I’ve found three,” I shouted. The other three were no where in sight. Nae slipped away for a few minutes to answer the phone. I took action.
The A's and B's
“I alphabetized the plants,” I admitted to her when she returned.
“Wow,” Nae laughed. “I knew one day your anal abilities would come in handy.”
We planted, chatted, planted, chatted, rested in the shade, chatted, munched on white cheddar cheese puffs, planted, and chatted some more.
“Start digging the holes for the trees,” her husband suggested. I’m not bragging, but my hole was bigger and deeper than Nae’s, and she’s young enough to be my daughter. He husband gave her the eye and shook his head. “He’s never gonna let me live it down,” she said, dropping her head slightly.
I left, renewed. It was now one of those days I’m thankful for. Whaddya know. Friendship and a day in nature — the cure for what a Ryan Gosling fantasy couldn’t do.
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Ohhhhh, so sweet. Ike got a big laugh out of it and thought it was pretty cool of your blog message. It was a memorable day, thanks for taking the time out for me. Love and blessings, Nae
Hey I’m Nae’s friend, too! And just between you and me, she doesn’t only have weak hole-digging abilities, but she also can’t ride a bike uphill. You don’t meet too many people with upper and lower limb muscle weakness like her
But what she does have going for her is that she’s cute and caring, she can find a good deal on anything… and oh!… she makes cute kids, too! (2 of them to be exact)
I really enjoyed reading your blog about gardening at Renee’s house. Sounds like a truly blessed and beautiful (& humorous) day
I like Jim Caviezel in Count of Monte Cristo. You’ve wetted my appetite for a fantasy trip. Besides, it’s pretty darn cold here now. I’ll save planting for spring.
Have you seen him in Person of Interest? He’s pretty good looking in that one too.
We’ll have to exchange backyards next year (gardens). We would probably do more laughing though
Sounds like a definite plan! Gardening is always more fun with friends.