Today I was paired with old Raymond. Now, Raymond must be somewhere around sixty, though his bad feet and worse wind problem make him seem older. He doesn’t walk so much as shuffle with determination, and when he bends over to wrestle a weed… well, let’s just say it’s wise to keep a safe distance. The air isn’t always what you’d call fresh.
Our mission: to pull up the summer bedding plants now that autumn is making its grand entrance. Out came the petunias, marigolds, and salvias — all the colourful soldiers bowing out after their season of glory. It was satisfying work in a way, even if half the time I was dodging more than weeds.
The border by the stepover apple trees that I cleaned and tidied.
After clocking off and heading home, I bumped into Mick, the new chap next door. He was tinkering with his car, grease on his hands, concentration on his brow. I thought I’d be neighbourly, so I chirped a friendly “hello” as I passed. Poor man jumped like I’d just proposed marriage, but once he’d recovered, he proved rather chatty.
I said my goodbyes and sauntered off, but something made me glance back just before I turned the corner. And there he was — still watching me walk away. Naughty man indeed… though not half as naughty as the grin it put on my face.
Something tells me the garden won’t be the only place sprouting new growth this autumn.
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