We've Grown Something Wild and Unruly

Friends visited in early May. As we communed on our screened porch, Lee opined, "Ah think that would be a good place for a butterfly garden." She pointed.

My previous gardening efforts were uninventive: soldierly rows of matching plants, geometrically arranged, evenly spaced, frequently pruned. I sensed a butterfly garden might be different. Before our friends departed, I knew it was different. Under their tutelage, we visited local nurseries and selected from the abundance of spring offerings.

Planting ensued. Hands were dirtied, tools employed, sweat exuded, soil turned, roots lovingly set in their new environs. It merited the name "Garden of Forgiveness" for reasons unrelated to its creation.

Pixie approves. Most evenings find the two of us meeting at the garden to investigate what changes the day brought. As we oogle the new growth, a lovefest invariably ensues.

There was no predicting the continuing joy this garden would bring. Perhaps surprising only to me, it flourishes. It's wild. It grows willy-nilly. Stems stretch up and over and out all in all directions. Others hug the ground popping out brilliant multi-colored blossoms. They bloom! Repeatedly! With vibrant colors and varied shapes. It's unlike any other garden I have ever called mine.

I absolutely adore it.

.

I Made a New Friend This Weekend

.

Eye Candy

A recent Tuesday found me heading into DC on the Metro. The day was beautiful, a hint of summer in the air, blue sky, sunshine, warm breeze, the works. Everything felt crisp, clean and fresh. I arrived at my client's office in good spirits.

I queried my co-worker, "You know what I adore the most about springtime in the city?"

He looked up from the stack of papers he was sorting, his eyebrows raised inquiringly.

"Sundresses!" I announced happily.

He chuckled and said, "Why they're a favorite of mine, too!"

We grinned and exchanged a high-five.

.

Continuing Education

I've often felt less than adequately prepared to advise my son in how to best pursue his career of choice. What I know about his field would barely fill a thimble; I learn as he goes.

It is a recurring jest for him to inquire why, when he was obviously such an adorable and precocious child, I did not whore him out for commercials or appearances in other media where adorable and even not-so-adorable children can accumulate a resume and financial portfolio before they can even count.

Alas I did not know then where his heart would lead, not that it would have made a difference. I was am merely a parent trying to not screw my kid up too badly. We laugh every time.

He really was a cute youngster. Maybe I should have whored him out.

This Asian tour has been an education for me. Lesson 1,340,223: Everything is subject to change. The schedule is not firm until it is. Lesson 1,340,223A: This may result in downtime, perhaps lengthy. Lesson 1,340,233B: If the employer is reputable, they will: 1) Fly you home then back when the tour resumes, or 2) Give you cash instead of airfare so you can do something else until the tour resumes. Your choice.

So it is that The Boy spent the month of May free-form in a foreign land, exploring and experiencing a part of the world in a manner I cannot even begin to imagine. He's still there. And he's doing it on someone else's dime.

When I shared his situation with a dear friend, she replied, "Your son officially sucks." I totally knew what she meant. Who couldn't use a month on the beach? As it turned out, the break in the tour couldn't have happened at a better time: the earthquakes hit China ten days after he left.

Lesson 654,503, courtesy of Sir Elton John: Just allow a fragment of your life to wander free.

I gotta get around to that myself someday.

.