After my post earlier today about having no visitors yesterday, Oakes must have taken pity on me and shared some of his Pied-Piper-ish abilities with me because today when I returned to do a couple of chores, I had far more visitors.
One was sort of a drive-by, a woman who mentioned she didn’t realize we were there, but who didn’t show much more interest as she continued on to her pressing destination.
A couple of mothers, with three kids in tow, stopped to chat, showing lots more interest despite lacking, I would say, a burning desire to get involved themselves next year. Two sons of one mom were only interested in whether my dog, seated serenely outside the gate, was indeed my dog. The older one asked, and I answered. Then the younger one asked, more quietly, but seeking the same knowledge I’d just given out.
Later, a gaggle of youngsters came by, eventually trailed by one adult who may or may not have been related to any of them, asking to come in and interested to know what we were doing. I explained what I could, and offered each a snow pea pod. One wanted to know how to peel it, and another shied away completely. Of those who tried one, I got a bell curve of responses: The youngest boy didn’t like his and it ended up first on the ground, then in the compost when I pointed it out. ("Where are the worms?" he asked, quite sagaciously.) A freckled girl liked hers so much she came back after she’d scurried off to declare her affection. The rest were in the middle.
My two purposes in going over were to water the no-grass strip created by the installation of a water line from the street (today was my turn), and I accomplished that, albeit not without watering myself far more than I would have liked to in the process. I guess it takes some practice.
My other purpose was to trim all the weedy/grassy edges of the walkway — it was just bugging me; my push mower wouldn’t do the edges and the extension cord for my electric edger is just shy of the three blocks it would need to reach — and I got only maybe 30 percent of it completed.
Part of the reason was that I was using garden shears, the best arrow in my quiver of garden tools but still not very good. The far more formidable reasons was my son Joe, who didn’t get enough sleep last night and was in no mood to hang out.
I kept trying to alter his existence in ways that might suit him, but inside the little sunscreen/playhouse I brought for him or in the grass, he just wanted to cry. In the stroller or in the stroller being pushed in circles for motion’s sake, he just wanted to cry.
He was fine as long as I was holding him, but I couldn’t hold and edge at the same time.
