I've chatted a couple of times with Nancy, since our last card game in, I think I'm remembering correctly, March. There will be no more cards, I'm sure. At least not at the Methodist church. I'm still up for lunch, any time I can find, or join a gang. I've encouraged Nancy to agreeing, and she came up with: lunch at Nancy's. Bring your own.
It was a good success, and we'll do it again. Next time I'll take my own brown bag and cup of coffee. I'm so unused to Subway ingredients that I came home and fell asleep for ninety minutes. I'm really disliking wasting that much of a day for an avoidable reason.
Nancy was still out getting lunch for Bill and herself when I pulled in. Bill is an avid, avid gardener, and I saw him up in the top of his flower garden when I pulled in. Can you tell they have grandchildren?
The "back garden". The sort of garden I might have had, given enough time at the old house. Bill's gardening theory is very close to mine, of plant so many things there is no room for weeds. Bill's, plant so many things the weeds look like another flower.
Hibiscus! How I love them. My one fling with them made for a lovely autumn show, but we didn't tend its pot well enough in the winter.
I don't know this flower. There are many vines filling trellis's along the walk. It is an overwhelming display. I enjoyed chatting, catching up, surrounded by so many flowers. We'll do it again.
I've so little other news. The grass green length is off the loom and ready to make into towels, starting tomorrow.
Up next, charcoal or black. I may flip a coin.