“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 853 (Saturday) – plants and plans

The day held much promise when I got up at 6:30. The weather was sunny and beautiful. I dressed neatly, as if expecting to be out in the world before sitting on the couch drinking coffee and playing Wordle, Quordle, and Scrabble. I finished reading the book club book. I talked to Winston.

Evening primrose, 2020.

During an excursion of opening doors to let Winston out, I noticed the deck planter looked extra sunny. It took a second or two before noticing the evening primrose that grows from under my deck and along the length of the deck looked different. Half of it was gone. Ripped out. 

Because my deck runs right to the property line, it might be a gray area as to who it belongs. Gray to me anyway. The roots and the dirt they grow in are under my deck, but parts of the plants grow at an angle towards the neighboring driveway. I’ve been watching and waiting, hoping for the bright yellow blossoms like those from 2020, the last time I recall it blooming. I don’t know what happened to it in 2021. I can’t remember if it grew and was ripped out or didn’t grow at all. The plants are taller this year, reaching the top of the rail, and until they flower, they don't look like much.

I definitely don’t remember any evening primrose blooms last summer and was glad to see the plants coming up again this year. There were casual thoughts about transplanting some of them along the picket fence and questions about the expected success. Hopefully, I can catch the neighbor before she rips any more out. My preference is to leave it where it is, as the shade on the deck is welcome, but I understand the annoyance if it is encroaching on the parking and car access. Transplanting is better than disappearing.

"I can't see it, but I know
you have something yummy."

In the end of the day assessment, the tally showed the usual amount of weekend antisocial sitting around doing nothing, one Finnish lesson practiced (day 733 on Duolingo), some weed removal from the front yard flower bed, and the mowing of the yard. There was pizza for lunch and potato chips for supper, each with a side of the now routine begging from the boy dog. There is some guilt over wasting another beautiful day. Maybe tomorrow I’ll do better.