A Real Cut-Up

 

My right hand is tired.  All I did today was crawl around on the living room floor cutting out patterns.  I cut out one more pair of navy leggings (not shown), two knit dresses, and three pairs of pants.  I have two more lengths of fabric for pants that I'll cut out, but probably not tomorrow.  Like I said my hand is tired, too much scissor-ing.  Which reminds me, I need to get Mom's good shears sharpened.  I called Joann Fabrics today to find out if they knew a scissors sharpener and the person on the phone said she'd heard that Ace sharpens scissors.  I'll give them a call tomorrow.  By late afternoon my knees were feeling the hours of contact with the carpet so I called my friend KW to ask if I could come out to her senior apartment complex to use the craft tables to cut out the pants.  So I got to stand up to cut the three pairs of pants--one navy denim with spandex, light khaki poly/cotton, and wheat linen.  I'll go downstairs and open out Mom's cutting table to cut the last two pairs standing up.  (I should have done that from the start.)  The other two are a blackblackblack with a bit of spandex and another "neutral" which is kind of toastier gold kind of khaki.  A girl can't have too many pairs of neutral pants, right?




Yesterday's storm blew the worst of the heat and some of the humidity away so I could walk this morning.  When I turned the downhill corner past Burger King (downhill, yeah!) I looked up to see a day moon.  (it's very tiny just to the right of center)





A male Downy Woodpecker came for a suet snack this morning and you can see that it was cool and dry enough that I had the patio door open and the screen pulled across.  I kept the door and windows open for a while until the a/c turned on and I closed everything up again.  But I was happy to see the bird.  Tomorrow I need to swing by Fleet Farm for a bag of birdseed.  I can't wait until I can put the bird feeders back where they were and walk up to fill the feeders on the retaining wall.  I think I'll text CG tomorrow to see when he thinks I can mow or hack down the weeds in back.  Soon I hope, although with all the rain the last couple days I'm sure the soil is water-logged and slippery.  *sigh*





My pots of coleus out front are looking great.  I love the colors of coleus leaves, especially that purple one, it looks like velvet and then there's that lime green one.  Gorgeous.  (I know it looks yellow but, trust me, it's lime green.)






Tonight the sky was glorious when I got home from KW's.  I even managed to get a decent angle on the sky between the trees with minimal wires in the shot.



21 July--Barbara Malcolm, Horizon.  

              As I sipped my tea the following morning, I was happy to see the sun drying the previous day’s rain and looked forward to getting started on the flowerbeds.  I dressed in my favorite gardening clothes, threw on one of Bert’s old barn jackets, and went out to get to work.  I loaded up the boys’ old Flexible Flyer wagon and hauled my plants and tools to the north side of the house.  I’d been working for about an hour when I heard a voice from behind.

“Need a hand?”

“Oh my gosh, you startled me.  I didn’t hear anyone pull in.”  I turned to face the man standing there.  “Mr. Baker, what are you doing here?”

“I saw you driving out of the garden center yesterday with your car loaded and thought I’d stop over today and see if I could help.  And, please call me Abel.”

“That’s very nice, Abel, but…”

“Come on, Gail, give me a chance.  You wouldn’t pass up free labor, would you?  I’m a pretty good hand in the garden and I promise to put things anywhere you say.  Please?”

He looked so much like the boys when they were trying to convince me they’d take good care of my car if only I’d let them use it Friday night, I couldn’t resist.  “Okay.”  I dug a folded and dirty piece of paper from my jacket pocket.  “Here’s the plan for this bed.  The plants are in the wagon and I marked Xs where I want them.  You start at the other end and we’ll meet in the middle.”

“Okay.”  Abel took off his jacket and draped it over the branch of a young tree, then picked up a shovel and got to work.

I was amazed, as we moved closer together as the morning progressed, that Abel managed to keep his mouth shut and not give advice about what should go where.  We got to the center of the bed where I had some doubts about my plan and I sat back on my heels.

“Abel, what do you think we should do here?  I’ve got the Coral Bells spilling over the edge but I don’t think the Baby’s Breath should be next to it after all.  Both are such small flowers there might not be enough contrast.”

Abel stood up and I could hear his joints crackle.  “Why don’t we grab a drink and stand back and look at what we’ve done and what’s left to plant?”

“Good idea.”  I pushed myself up with my knuckles and my knees popped.  “Guess we’re too old for all this kneeling.  Ooh, my back’s sore.”  I dug my fists into my lower back and stretched.  “That’s better.  Come on into the kitchen.  I made some lemonade.”

            Abel stepped back to allow me to precede him.  We brushed the earth from our pants legs before we climbed the steps to the back porch, took off our dirty shoes and jackets and left them there, and went into my cozy kitchen.  While I got out glasses and the pitcher of lemonade, Abel looked at the framed watercolors on the walls.

            “Who painted these?  They’re really good.”

“Thanks.  I painted them.  I’m just learning but I’m having a good time with it.”

“This one of the mums in the autumn sun is especially good.  Did you frame it yourself?”

“Yes, I’ve been buying frames at junk shops and flea markets all winter.  I can’t always find exactly what I’m looking for but they’re not bad—and they’re cheap.  Here.”  I handed him a glass of lemonade. “Have a seat and I’ll slice up some banana bread.  Would you like butter for your bread?”

He took a sip.  “This is good lemonade, not too sweet.  No thanks on the butter.  I like to taste good banana bread without frills and I’ll bet yours is terrific.”

I set a plate covered with slices of the fresh bread on the table and sat down.  “Have a taste and tell me what you think.”  I was surprised that it mattered to me that he like my banana bread.

“It’s terrific.  Different from any I’ve ever had.  What’s that I taste?”

“Nutmeg.  I put nutmeg in and the sugar’s half white and half brown.  Aaron and Sara went to Jamaica on their honeymoon and raved about it so much the chef at the resort shared his recipe.  I love how fragrant it is when it’s baking.”

Sitting there watching him eat and drink, I found myself fascinated by Abel’s hands.  They were fine hands with long fingers; work-hardened but handsome.  Abel gestured a lot when he talked.  I could see that his nails were well-cared-for and the cuticles were trimmed.  I wondered how his hands would feel if they touched me.  I knew he’d been a gardener all his life, so they had to be calloused.  The thought of his rough hands gliding over my skin made me shiver.  I took a gulp of lemonade to try and cool my heated thoughts.

“I’m sorry, Abel.  What did you say?”  I had been so caught up in my fantasies that I’d missed his question.

“I asked if you might be interested in having me make some frames for your paintings.  Woodworking is a little hobby of mine.  That way you’d have exactly the frame you imagine.”

“I don’t know.  Wouldn’t that be a lot of work for you, take up a lot of your time?”

“Gail, I’m a widower, I work part-time at the garden center, that’s it.  I’ve got nothing but time.  And I’d enjoy it.”

I thought about the idea.  It was becoming harder to find the perfect frames for my paintings.  More and more, by the time I was finished painting one, I had a very definite idea of how the frame should look.  “I don’t know if I can afford custom frames.”

“I wouldn’t charge you.  You could have them.  Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not being silly.  I can’t expect you to spend your time, and the money for the wood, and just make me a gift of them. What a thought.  I’d expect to pay you.”

Abel ran a hand over his face and said, “You are one frustrating woman.  I want to do this for you.”

“Well, I won’t let you, so just forget it.”  I stood up, put the lemonade and bread away, and put our glasses in the sink.  “Thanks for your help today.  I’ll see you to your truck and then finish planting.”  I walked to the back door and put my hand on the knob.

Abel sat gaping at me.  “You are the most frustrating…I mean, we haven’t even talked about where to put the Coral Bells and Baby’s Breath.  At least let me help finish what I started.  I’m not ready to leave yet.”

I stood at the door thinking that Abel was even bossier than Bert had ever been, but the little things I’d learned about him made me want to know more.  I was horrified, too, at myself for thinking about how his hands would feel on me.  I’m probably blushing.  Maybe he’ll think I’m having a hot flash.  “All right, we might as well go out there and finish the job.”

Standing beside Abel looking at the planting plan, I was aware of our shoulders touching and I could feel his breath on my cheek when he leaned over to point at something on the paper.  My rampaging thoughts were not on his words.  I tried but couldn’t control myself.  Just as I thought about raising my hand to touch his cheek, he moved to rearrange the plants to try a different idea.

Oh, I have got to get him out of here.  I don’t know what’s come over me.  We’d better get these plants in the ground before I embarrass myself.  “That looks good just like that, Abel.  Let’s get them in and watered.”  I picked up my trowel, knelt down, and began digging holes and plopping plants into them.

           “Hey, take it easy.  You’ll break them if you’re so rough with them, and you’ve planted them too deep.”  He took the trowel from me, dug up what I’d just planted, put some soil into the hole, a sprinkle of fertilizer, and gently placed the plant in the hole, pressing firmly to fill it in.  “Why don’t you get the hose and I’ll put in these last few.”

           I was glad to walk away.  My cheeks felt flushed and my hands were shaking.  I took my time dragging the hose to the side of the house, stopping to unkink it, and by the time I got there Abel had finished and was putting the empty flats into the wagon.  We rinsed our tools and watered in the new plants.

“Thanks again for helping, Abel.  You’ll have to stop by in a few weeks and see how they look once they’ve filled in.”

“I’d like that.”  He took his jacket off the tree and started walking toward his truck.  I walked beside him.  “And I’ll be happy to help if you want to work on other beds around the yard,” he said.  “I saw some new vines, Scarlet Cardinal Vine it’s called, in a catalog that would look real nice around your mailbox.”

As we neared the backdoor I touched Abel’s arm, “Would you wait here a minute?  I want to give you something.”  Not waiting for an answer, I ran up the steps and into the house.  I came back carrying the painting of autumn mums he’d admired.  “I want you to have this, Abel, to thank you for all your hard work today.”  I held it out.

“Gail.  I can’t take this.”  He reached for the painting even as he tried to refuse.  “I mean, I love it, but are you sure you want to give it to me?”

“I’m sure.  You like it and I can’t think of a better way to thank you for today.  Please, I want you to have it.”  I could feel myself blushing.

Abel leaned toward me and brushed a kiss on my cheek.  “Thanks.”  He turned and walked to his truck.

I stood frozen in place, my hand stealing up to touch the cheek he’d kissed.  I barely managed to wave as he drove away.

Sorry that piece of Horizon is so long tonight.  I couldn't find a logical place to break it off.  Oh well.  Man, I'm going to sleep well tonight.  My legs, my knees, and my hands are all tired from a long day of pattern cutting out.  Pretty soon I'll start to sew up all this fabric.  G'night.
--Barbara