A Quiet Day in Grandma's Garden

Everyone knew what to do.

No one had to ask how. 

Checking the soil so the potted aloe vera wasn't over-watered.... because it's a plant not a fish.... it can drown in too much water....... 

....that's a true gardening skill.

Even the raking was gentler.

None of us could explain it.

We all liked it. 

All three of them planted the seeds that have now sprouted as nasturtiums and either sweet peas or hollyhocks.... if only we could remember.... but it really doesn't matter because we'll find out soon enough when the flowers come out.  

In the meantime, we'll have some of the scallion growing out of the onion we stuck in the middle. 

It tastes so much better when we grow it ourselves.

The mandarin orange tree was ready to be harvested, and everyone had as much as (insert gender neutral pronoun) wanted.  

And then there was this.

I found the head of one of the scarecrows hidden in the garden bench's bin.

It's Tom or Jerry or Terry.... no one is every quite sure.

One thing was obvious, though - he was dead.

He had no body. Of course he was dead.

And so, he was buried. 

There was dignity and solemnity and much attention to detail.

I told them they could put him anywhere they wanted.

Hoist by my own petard on a peaceful Garden Club Wednesday.