May 27, 2021

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As I walked onto the dock to water the tomatoes and peppers this morning, they were waiting for me. I instantly detected the vibe that a chlorophyll-fueled insurrection was a distinct possibility. Some were standing there with their hands on their hips, some had their heads cocked sideways giving me the evil eye, others had their arms up in exasperation. Even the arugula seedlings were squeaking obscenities. “What?” I said innocently. “I don’t control the weather you know.” “Well, you sure have screwed us this time haven’t you?” barked the Big Boy Tomato (that overweight blowhard) shaking his stake at me. “It’s gonna freeze tonight and you’re just gonna leave us out here to fend for ourselves, aren’t you?” He had me there. Before I filled the pots with dirt, I screwed them to the dock so they would never get blown into the lake, so yes, there is no option to move to them into the pole barn alongside their more fortunate cousins, those spoiled, filthy rich potted flowers. “You go home and THINK bob, you THINK about how you are going to cover us up the next few nights and don’t you come back until you figure it out!” I was too proud, embarrassed, and guilt-ridden to tell him I was wide awake between 2am and 3am this morning obsessively MacGyvering-it like it was the next launch to Mars. “Can’t you all just relax and enjoy the sunrise?” I suggested in retreat, trying not to look back but praying all those stake ties I carefully put in place last week held.