Life will never be the same

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.