Sunday, June 5, 2011


Thanks to bottled water and sunscreen, the game was fun, overgrown field and blistering heat notwithstanding, and those vestiges of non-competitive athletic competence showed themselves in the form of four singles, after which I ate citrus for dinner and bought still more plants for the front yard, walking the dog in the cool of the day, amused by the freedom rocker with the red bandanna drinking beer and listening to Foreigner on the front porch with the volume turned up so high that instead of basslines one only hears a blown subwoofer.

But the yard looks lovely, with the watercolor painting look of the coleus and purple and silver-green spiderworts, succulents like tiny outer space creatures, everything spilling out of pots by the doors and on the side of the house, a little bit of jungle in the rust belt. When the clematis, zinnia, poppies, and nasturtiums bloom (one can only hope), and the morning glories scale the fence, it will be hard for me to stay inside.


Randal Graves said...

So, Sultaness of Swat, what was it like to be in the proximity of a future faux Foreigner drummer?

thatgirl said...

It was priceless watching all these swanky yuppie types seeking a classy night in the up and coming arts district, ending up with an experience involving 70's classic rock on a tinny boombox and lots of weed smoke instead.

If I had been more quick-witted, I would have yelled out "hey man is that Freedom Rock?" or something.

Randal Graves said...

Rock and roll power! Forever!