It's Saturday.
We, I, really need a break from the family.
A few chores at Mother's house in the morning.
Back home.
Watch out, daddy's flowers are dying.
Can't let Daddy's flowers die.
We need to get those to my house so we can keep them watered.
First baby tomatoes on the vine are ripe.
Daddy, you didn't quite make it for this year's crop.
No front porch deliveries of tomatoes and cukes and green peppers this year.
No slightly squished oh so sweet miniature Sweet 100's.
I knew some year they wouldn't be there.
I say, I am going to cut some tomato branches with little red tomatoes on them
and put them in a vase and take them to my house for the reception.
Just have to put them in a place so no one will eat them.
Stop at store. Run over curb with the front of my Prius.
Just back up like a hundred times before.
Go home, gin and tonic. Clean up a bit.
Don't remember dinner. Just go to bed.
Maybe tonight I will sleep.
Nope, more Maclemore.
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