The Summer Garden

She was excellent at making plans. Let’s go on a cruise. Ice Cream would suit me just fine right now. A float down the river would compliment this most Summer of all days. Anything and everything that said Summer.

The problem being, that someone needed to translate her ideas into reality! That’s what I do, you see. I am Mr Reality! The problem being that I would rather feel more Fantasy-like today. I felt that her next idea should be hers, and hers alone, otherwise I would have to leave my Fantasy World, just to make her happy!

“You do that, you know? Make me happy. You are more faithful than any dog, even though your tail wagging still needs a bit of work. We agreed that you were the Mover, and I was the Visionary! We go hand in hand with each other. We wouldn’t want it any other way. She often said “We” as if i was saying the same words as she, almost lip-syncing along with her.

This discussion started when she thought about having a Summer Garden. Sweet Peas, and Butterflies. A water spreader making rainbows, while cute Rabbits snuggled in the shade. Freshly grown organic Canta Melons, or Water Lopes, complimenting our Summer Drinks, in tall glasses with a wedge of lime and ice cubes.

“I could wear my Summer Hat, you know. Your favorite! We could sit back and enjoy the coolness of the Summer Evening, watching the sun cast shadows along the rows of strawberries, their passionate red color, suggesting me in my Summer Dress, accentuating my form, enticing you to a night of unbridled passion. You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

I was leaning on the shovel looking across the dry and weedy, “Future home of her fantasy” aka. The Garden of Dreams! A night of unbridled passion did seem nice, but rather far away, and rather strange having to share our bed with a shovel, and my dusty boots.

“We could run naked through the rows, our feet kissing the grassy pathways and byways. Hide and Seek, Summer-wise. You were laughing without stop, when you found me. I was pretending to blend in with the ferns, hiding my Garden of Eden from your wandering hands. Strong and muscular, you would lift me up, as if I were a feather, and carry me away into the night!”

Might as well grin and bear it, I thought at last. All of that talk of passion and Summer Drinks was already making me thirsty, but the weeds were tenacious, and hard to pull up. Perhaps we could postpone the large night of Strawberry Passions for a lesser one of Crabgrass Convulsions? I wouldn’t want to ruin the moment, but I would need a lot more imagination in order to get through with the dirty work, and sweaty hours in the blazing sun.

“I know you are the man for the job”, she said while nibbling a bunch of grapes. “You have just the right amount of Fantasy to get the job done, and in a fraction of the time, said while squeezing the juice out of each grape, and popping them into her mouth. Can’t you wait to join me?, she asked in rather coy way. Wouldn’t you want to squeeze my grapes, and caress my strawberries as well?”

OK. I can do this, I’m sure of it, thinking to myself while leaning into my shovel, and casting weeds to the left and the right. If the job needs doing, and all that rubbish! I was indeed the man for the job, dusty boots and all! I only hope she is still awake later this evening, sitting there in her Summer Dress, sipping cold drinks with lime wedges, dreaming of a night of unbridled passion?

While I am admiring the blisters on my hands…….

 

 

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