A few minutes into pulling bindweed and trying not to swear with every vine, my now 11-year old (how does that keep happening – wasn’t she just 4 and her dad would park his car across the driveway so she could ride her bike without worrying she’d land in the street?) neighbor stops by.
As usual, she wants to talk about plants and the household menagerie. We chat amiably for quite a while and then she disappears, as kids are wont to do. I figured she’d grown bored of watching me weed. Understandable, I was bored with weeding myself.
But no, she reappears with her mom’s gardening basket filled with gloves, tools, and a knee-pad. She slips on gloves and grabs her clippers, kneels on the pad and begins to help me trim down the iris leaves.
She also brought cilantro seeds for me to plant for the ducks.
I did figure out that scene, btw, it just didn’t happen while gardening.
Annie DeMoranville 