Wednesday, February 04, 2009
I have a seat in my garden that’s so old, it is rotten. I bought it to sit with my friends and family in the garden, 14 years ago.
My husband wouldn’t sit with me; he was too busy.
My two sons didn’t sit with me; they were too embarrassed to be seen with their mother.
My friends couldn’t sit with me; they had their own families to raise.
I sat there each week, regardless; watering my plants and watching them die in the endless drought.
Hosing off the white ants.
Washing off fallen leaves.
Watering my plants in the heat of summer.
Sitting there in spring smelling my rose I managed to grow in a pot, one year.When that died, I planted pink petunias.
Occasionally, usually my birthday, or such, my friends would come and we would gather and laugh and play and take photos.
I have a seat in the garden, that’s so old, it’s rotten.
Now that our children have grown, and our husbands are still busy with work, I now find time to sit with my friends and we prop ourselves on our elbows.
Just don't rock the bench too much. It's rotten.