The next morning I wake up with a massive headache. I remember I have a crack-of-dawn date with a crazy gardener from outer space who expects me to baby-sit the garden hose for five hours. I wish somebody would turn off the lights and I can go back to sleep and wake up in a perfect world where there are no weeds and no need for crazy gardeners from outer space. There is something else I wish I could eliminate from this world but I can’t remember right now. So, I roll out of bed like a dead log, except for groaning. I fix myself an extra strong cup of coffee and take it intravenously.
How did I get myself into this pickle? How did it all start?
Suddenly, with intense clarity I remember that somebody suggested a whining fast. The whining fast that I didn’t think I needed but sure would have appreciated if my kids adhered to. I remember the weeds, the prayer, the white truck, and the guy who wrestled with the combine… What started as a whining fast has turned into a whining fest, for now I see clearly that in the past 24 hours I’ve done nothing but whine and complain! Is that just a coincidence?
Have you had your second cup yet? A familiar voice jerks me out of my ruminations.
How do you know about the second cup?!!
It’s public record, silly… C’mon. just grab it and bring it with you. You can finish it while we are watering…
You know… I start, I think there was a big mistake. I appreciate your offer, you showing up here at crack of dawn… but I think you got yourself a wrong person. I don’t have just a brown thumb. Every finger and every toe and every bone in my body is brown. I have killed, mutilated, and murdered every green thing that ever dares putting its root down within our property lines. Get it? It’s hopeless. Leave while there is still time…
He hands me the hose, apparently quite deaf, in addition to being crazy.
I’ll turn on the water… He walks behind the fence and opens the valve. The hose coughs and sputters for a few seconds and then the water begins gushing out.
I stand with the garden hose in one hand and coffee cup in the other.
How in the world can this do any good…?
If you would be a little less opinionated, we might actually get somewhere…
He called me, Opinionated! I find that very offensive.
True or false?
Well… I admit… I can be… sometimes… Alright, … most of the time. But, still…
Now we are getting somewhere. He chuckles and takes a deep breath. Without realizing, I do the same.
I love mornings.
What’s there to love?
He closes his eyes. I want to close my eyes, but I am afraid I am not coordinated enough to juggle a hose in one hand and a coffee mug in the other with my eyes shut.
You hear it?
I hear nothing, other than the shhhhh of the water…
Just listen…
It’s very quiet. I finally say. It’s actually… nice.
We stand there a while. No words between us. Just the stillness of the early morning.
This feels… good. I could stand here forever. I mutter, feeling mildly intoxicated by all the fresh air. I hear the shuffling of his feet in the grass.
We are done for today, He says and shuts off the water.
Done?!! Already?!!! I gasp. I thought…
I’ll be back tomorrow, Miss Opinionated. I open my mouth in protest but he has already disappeared.
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