Splashy

That is what Callum* called my front garden at 8:00 am when he screeched to a halt on his scooter. His crash helmet is so utterly reflective (it looks like the Chicago bean sculpture on his head) and I could see that I was already looking raggy even though I had the entire day of gardening ahead of me. In his lilting Chelsea accent he started talking about the World Cup, like I even know whose team is any good. Then he pootered off with a wave and a 'jolly good then', to teach his Tai Chi classes. He looks like he's doing Tai Chi even when he's just talking to you; very graceful man.

Chris* across the street showed me a video on his Blackberry of the pug they are adopting from a rescuer. Aww...he can kiss his nice back lawn goodbye.

Throughout the day, as I moved about the beds performing the needed moving, dividing and mulching, many people stopped by to chat, inquiring about specimens and I do hope I didn't come across as rude for continuing to work while they chatted. I now know what everyone is doing this weekend and it's a lot more relaxing than what I have planned...more of the same. My happy thought is that if I do it right this year, I won't have to do much for the next three or so except pull those pesky you-know-whats out.

To all my favorite blippers whom I have been sorely neglecting, go ahead and blame the garden. To the two special blippers who requested felt puppets, I am so anxious to get that done and off to you, please be patient.

Got more info about paid gig #1: library, shooting the space and PS'ing a huge art piece in for a commission proposal. I have to do it before the public shows up, early in the morning because the library, by law, can't show any patrons in a photograph. Can't I just blur their faces, I asked. No, I was told. You don't mess with the head librarian.

*not their real names