Bees

 Okay, one bee.  When I was in the garden looking for (and not finding) another cucumber baby I heard nearby buzzing and found this industrious bee on a mint flower.  It was moving fast and getting things done.

Speaking of cucumbers I picked number three today.  This is the one that was stuck in the fencing.  I got it out of the fence and it grew into this lovely cuke.  You can see the scars from the wire on the top of it.

 

I decided to see if blog shaming has any effect on the reddening of these tomatoes.  I still have two that I've picked to final ripen on the counter so I'm not out of tomatoes--yet--but if I'm not careful I will be.  Hurry up, tomatoes, time to start turning red.

One benefit of being too short to weed on top of the retaining wall is that the squirrel-planted corn has grown up and is making more corn.  One ear anyway.  I wonder if it'll make corn since it hasn't tasseled out.  Time will tell.

I finished Cast Sock 3 this afternoon while I was watering the retaining wall, well, while the soaker hose was running up on top of it.  I can't knit and water at the same time.

17 August--Barbara Malcolm, Better Than Mom's. 

The next few weeks went by without a hitch.  Brady had never been happier.  His customers regularly congratulated him for being brilliant enough to hire Naomi and he came to believe that it was his idea from the get-go.  Fay allowed him to believe that; she got a raise, and a much easier boss to work for. 

Brady hardly minded when, after the early morning rush was over, Naomi hurried across the parking lot to make sure Marcus was up and dressed, that he ate the breakfast she quickly fixed for him or carried over from the diner, then drove him the eight blocks to school.  Marcus gave up complaining about the short leash his mother kept him on.  He had come to appreciate the time they spent in the car together at the beginning of the day, and to notice how his friends’ mothers did not seem as interested in their sons’ lives.  At first, he caught a lot of flack about being a “mama’s boy” after football practice, but he just smiled and shook his head.  He told his best friend James that the reason his mom picked him up was so he had the best chance she could give him to get through school and get a scholarship for college.  James’s job was to spread the word among the team members to lay off.  It mostly worked, except for one big tackle named Carl.  He took exception to James’s advice and ramped up his taunting.  Marcus finally had to meet Carl under the bleachers for a few minutes of trading punches and shoving, which earned Marcus a bloody lip and a rather romantic looking black eye but ended up with Carl rolling in the dirt clutching his family jewels.  Naomi lectured Marcus about fighting.  He nodded and said “yes, ma’am” as politely as his swelling mouth allowed, but he knew she understood that a man sometimes had the necessity of establishing boundaries with his fists.   Overall the outcome of that little scuffle was a greater team unity. 

If Coach ever heard of the fight or had an opinion about it, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.  As the year progressed, Marcus began to notice how few parents were as interested and involved in their children’s lives, he came to appreciate the care his mother was taking to make sure he succeeded.  Once football season was ended (they finished second in the division after a heartbreaking loss in overtime) Marcus asked his mother if she thought he could get a job busing at the diner a few evenings a week so he could start saving up for college.  After talking it over with Brady she gave her permission. 

“As long as your schoolwork does not suffer.” 

Brady was happy to have the friendly, hard-working young man working for him and, even though it pained him to say, he had to admit Marcus’ friends who came in to tease him—and stayed to order fries and a Coke—were by and large a nice group of kids. 

Today's toss was all of the baby and toddler silverware (plastic ware?), a couple plastic pitchers, and a fishing reel.  Nobody fishes, even Durwood barely fished, so I don't know why I have poles and reels and stuff.  Not for long.

I vacuumed today (ugh, I don't like to vacuum), ran and emptied the dishwasher so I feel like my day was filled with housework.  It wasn't really.  Running the vacuum over the whole house takes about half an hour and emptying the dishwasher takes less than ten minutes.  I'm so overworked.  Not.

--Barbara