I have a new-er pal. Her name is Navi. She carpools with dates my friend Alan. She’s also my current hair-advice-expert. She does it for a living – it’s all good. But her expertise does not stop there. She has a green thumb. A big honker of a green thumb.
She gardens tomatoes and peppers and potatoes and other veggies. She keeps fruit bushes along her property line. And she tends to flowers. Navi has the most beautiful little spot in her backyard filled with flowers. And she cut a few to bring to me. All different kinds in blue and white and pink and green. But the sunflowers were my favorite.
Such a bright, inviting flower. You can’t help but smile in its presence.
Navi shrugs off my amazement of her gardening ability. “It’s nothing, really.” I guess she doesn’t realize she’s talking to a gal that’s killed a hosta. And a violet. I’ve managed to do well in the summer months with my potted flowers (begonias are stellar for people that might forget to water for a day… yes sirree, a hearty plant) but for the most part, I suck at gardening. Vegetables and flowers alike. I’d like to change this. But then I realize that I really don’t care enough to. Because it’s hot outside.
But these sunflowers. Oh how I love them. And I thought it was extremely sweet of Navi to share with me her garden. On second thought, she might have already known about the hosta. My reputation may proceed me.