How, I wondered to Vince via Skype today, would I persuade someone to water my terrace while I am away later next week, in cool Vancouver? There are more pots than ever, and my idea of fun, which is carrying a big watering can to and fro, is not everyone's. Some people do not lift. I need a hose, I announced. Or a fraction of a hose.
I resolved to vist Tony's on Smith Street. I knew that he would chop up a hose for me and fix a nozzle to one end if I asked nicely. Of course I would be paying for the whole hose...
So, after fetching two journals on hold for me at the 5th Avenue Flight 101, I ambled back to my hood, leaving my old (and much-changed stomping ground), for future investigation with Frenchman.
And guess what I found at Tony's Hardware. A truncated hose! Ten feet long! The man is brilliant. I was so excited that I bought a bright pink wand to fit at the end for hard to reach pots. And for showers.
Then I came home and watered.
And watered.
And watered some more. Something drowned, and didn't even attempt to wave.
It was fun.
My first hose. My very own.
Water, source of life... The plants must be as happy as a giant worm wearing a swimsuit on Arrakis...
ReplyDelete...eugh.
ReplyDeleteLOL, sorry, to me it was very poetic. I guess you're not a Dune fan... ;-)
ReplyDeleteWell...the problem is, where on those worms would one put the bikini?
ReplyDeleteWho said anything about a bikini? Worms wear long surfer britches...
ReplyDeleteWhere do their tails go, then? Maybe surfer britch, singular.
ReplyDelete