Flower Friday. : : Narcissus

I came home from getting a haircut to find John in the driveway taking out the burned remains of the neighbors' rosemary plants to reveal the narcissus which bloom every year at this time without a single bit of attention from us. They were an especially welcome sight this year and seem to be thriving despite the fact that they have come up right underneath what's left of a row of burned pineapple guava trees....

The haircut, which should have been a pleasant experience turned into a bit of an ordeal almost entirely of my own making. 
The salon is not officially allowed to be open, so I was invited to use the back door ('look for the palm tree').It is in a large complex of businesses both large and small set in a circular maze of driveways and  buildings each surrounded by parking, all looking pretty much like all the others.It wasn't until I pulled in to one and reached for my phone to look up the address that I realized that I had forgotten my phone. I had also forgotten the name of the salon and wandered around somewhat aimlessly hoping to recognize it. There were a lot of cars around but no people since just about everything is shut. I finally found a workman sitting in the back of his truck having a smoke and looking at his phone. who was willing to look up the name of a nearby business ,whose name I was able to remember, and which turned out to be right across the street.  from where we were.

By this time I had no idea what time it was (my phone again) but knew I had been wandering around for quite awhile and was undoubtedly late. I found the palm tree (a tiny sickly thing in a pot, not the massive tree i had been looking for) found the nondescript back door unlocked but nobody around. Was it the right door? I went in calling out as I went and finally raised the stylist who had told me the wrong time and was busy with another client. She obviously didn't want two clients in the place at once so she had me wait in a back room. 

The whole thing played out in reverse when I came out of the salon, walked around one big complex at least twice, my heart lifting every time I saw a red car and falling again when it wasn't mine. I was debating asking a woman, (also having a smoke) if I could use her phone to call John to come and get me, but this is not an easy request to make of a total stranger during the time of Covid.

Through some combination of luck and process of elimination I finally found my car parked within steps of the front of the salon  having walked miles through parking lots and driveways. The whole adventure confirmed that:
1) I have NO sense of direction, and can almost count on the fact that I will automatically walk in the diametrically opposite direction and 
2) I am far too dependent on my phone.

I simply cannot follow the minute by minute coverage of events unfolding in Washington. It does no good anyway since they change every thirty two seconds. Occasionally a rogue thought does sneak into my mind though. A cult tends to splinter and eventually die without its head, but there are rumors about that when if he leaves the White House, Trump might start his own media company from which he could continue to rally his troops many of whom are very dangerous people. He really does need to be locked up somewhere....