Sow There!

Wednesday evening I got home from work and the house was empty. I put my vinyl lunch cooler on the counter and saw a note from Tommy that he had left to meet with a coworker and would be home in about an hour.

It's been hot lately and the inside of the house was warmer than outside. The sun had ducked over the canopy of trees and there was some nice shade in the garden.

Knowing I had about an hour to myself, I took the cordless phone outside and sat back on one of the green Adirondack plastic chairs my mother had recently given us.

The lawn had been mowed the day before and Tommy must have watered it earlier in the evening.

Although it was still hot outside, the wet grass made the temperature in the shade just a bit cooler, and the sweet, fresh smell of lawn was relaxing.

I rarely get a chance to simply enjoy the garden like this. I take a tour of the yard each morning in my bathrobe, and every evening when I get home.

My father likes to philosophize that growing a garden should not be a difficult task, but one that takes a little effort each and every day.

It takes less than a minute to pull a weed here or dead-head some flowers there. If done consistently, it won't seem like a chore.

But this evening, I chose not to putz around and just relaxed and took in all 360 degrees of this little patch of land.

The possibilities for what to do this fall were fun to imagine.

Some may think of spring as the time of new beginnings, but autumn is actually the time that the groundwork is made for what will bloom in spring.

Soon, the tomatoes will begin to yellow and will need to be pulled out. Should I plant something new there, or save that patch of the garden for tomatoes again next year?

Should I plant spring-blooming bulbs at the front of that garden bed? Did I remember where I planted bulbs last year? Or did the squirrels munch them?

The lavender bush in the north of my little garden was planted about 10 years ago. It's more than a yard wide now and blooms every year with deep purple.

Maybe its time to divide it. Should I take cuttings and spread them through the yard? Or should I put them in one-gallon pots and give them away to friends?

It's still too hot to put any of these thoughts into action, but I made a mental checklist of how I would like to make changes.

This is the lull between summer and fall, a time to be grateful for what has grown this year and to map out goals for next spring.

I phoned up my best friend who lives next door.

Her house was shut up to keep out the heat and I couldn't persuade her to come outside and sit with me. We chatted for a long time. Some problems are the most easily solved by chatting with a friend while lounging on a chair in the middle of the garden, with the smell of fresh grass and the shade finally darkening the side of the house.

Tommy game home and found me. I was still on the phone.

Being completely comfortable, and lazy, I asked him if he would get me a glass of ice water and some dark chocolate.

He obliged. When he returned he turned on the sprinkler very low to water the garden beds surrounding the lawn At one point in my conversation with my friend, I noticed Tommy had taken off his shirt.

Double yum.

I couldn't help but laugh, and gloat to my friend on the phone.

Here I was sitting in my garden, yakking on the phone, with a shirtless man fetching me things and watering the flowers.

Every once in a while he would walk by with the sprinkler and cool off my feet.

I don't think it could have gotten any more decadent than that, except if he had produced a palm frond and began fanning the back of my neck.

There are moments, perhaps only a few, when one can feel like a princess.

But at least there are a few.