The Unseen MoonSummer morning
Where I sit for a spell in the mornings. I’m still waiting for the painter to return and finish that ugly wall. Next week, he now says.
—–
I awoke this morning to overcast skies. My child bride commented that it looked like it would rain. It surely did.
But as I write this at just after 11 a.m., it hasn’t rained. After coffee, multigrain toast with honey and butter, I went outside to deadhead this rose bush. Old men must stay busy.
Red-hot pokers add a nice touch.
—–
Years ago I planted five rose bushes of different sorts along that rock wall, but only this one survived. It’s a climber, but I’ve never given it anything to climb on, so it mostly droops.
I planted this flower way back. Every spring, it pops up from below ground where it lives most of the year, invisible, and forms this flower. It lasts a couple of weeks, then dies and the whole shebang disappears till the following year. It’s on its last legs now.
It’s time to go downstairs now for Second Breakfast. Raw oats, banana, sunflower seeds, honey and milk. You’d think I’m a freaking hippie, but I’m surely not.
I wish the darn painter would show up.
#aging #flowers #housePainting #MexicanGardening #Mexico #retireInMexico #weatherInMexico
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