I stopped at the town hall yesterday afternoon, before I picked up grandkids from their art class. I pulled in the lower level; the back road garage doors were open and I found the assistant road super. The one on vacation last week. The road super, as you know, is painting his house this week.
I told Doug I’d come to see if I could have a bucket and to see where the garage door buttons are. ”Does this have anything to do with that sunflower?”
We went into the office, where he showed me the only ‘to do’ list the super left him. He watered the sunflower before anything when he came in at seven.
Back out to the garage and he opened the door to show me the sunflower.
We were dumbstruck.
OMG, it’s 100 degrees, Sunflower faces south and is baking in the reflected heat from the white door. We poured water on the crack with abandon. It was so hopeless; only a tiny crack to put water in. That’s why Tim told me he let the hose dribble on it all morning.
We did what we could. Doug poured water on the crack and left the garage door open until he went home. The kids and I gave it another drink in the evening.
This morning I went straight to the garage. The white garage door is up, and Sunflower is receiving an slow drip infusion from a tiny hole in the bucket of chicken manure tea. Doug raises chickens. He figured it wouldn’t hurt, and with luck we might get away with being stupid.
Now to think of something to do tomorrow. Coneing it off won’t work this holiday.