Bev’s Mistake
5.25.2009
I stood in the back door laughing until I could stand no longer. The scene was so preposterous, so out of character for my dear wife, that I couldn’t hold back the peals of hilarity.
Both of us had worked tirelessly to get our sprawling lawns and hundreds of feet of flowerbeds, for all intents and purpose, in perfect shape for the event. Our mantra is; Bev takes care of the weeding and planting and I do the lawns, shrubs, and bushes.
The greatest share of our lawns consists of carefully maintained turf grass. The kind of grass used in golf courses. It is a very close knit type of very fine Bermuda grass. This takes a special mower and great care to keep in shape. Actually with thirty years of experience I should have a good handle on it.
The watering (in Central California), the fertilizing, keeping the weeds and gophers out are all issues that keep us on task. In peak season we often must mow twice a week to really keep it at a beauty we care about. It gives us good exercise in the outdoors besides.
It is not uncommon for visitors to comment about the lawns. One frequent question is, “Is it real grass?”
At certain times of the day it looks truly like a very soft, lush, green velvet carpet. Of course it doesn’t always look like that. Winters we let the grass go dormant, which is good for me to take a break from maintenance and my good wife puts her energies to other projects as well.
The past weekend had been a huge project for us getting everything to perfection. Our former neighbor had passed away just six months before and we had promised the family they could have the memorial service here at our home.
We had even hand picked the dead leaves that seem to be released at night from the huge overhead magnolia tree and cluttered the carefully positioned white chairs. No blade of grass untrimmed, no branch hanging where it shouldn’t and all the flowers had been dead headed. We had put forth a huge effort to make everything just right for us and the family coming for the service. They were not disappointed.
It was a beautiful service in near perfect surroundings and we couldn’t have ordered better weather. We relished the beauty of Beverly’s carefully placed flowers and meticulously tended beds of accented flora. The beauty was stunning and hugely appreciated by those in attendance.
We collapsed the evening after the event, vowing not to do any more work in the yard for the time being. We would relax.
In our advancing years, we have tried to deal with the disabilities inherited with the aging territory. We gripe, complain, grumble and try to persuade each other that things are not as bad as they could be, but we get up and down a little more cautiously and with a little more care for creaking joints and diminished balance. We are in denial but mostly happy for each day that finishes without unusual incidents.
The next day the folding white chairs had been stacked, ready for the rental company to pick them up. The family had come and taken the last of the food serving items and we were ready to depart for a much needed outing of our own, a very mini get away.
We were truly tired when the afternoons tramp through the lavender farm was over. Bev ran through some prerecorded news broadcasts while I enjoyed one of my favorite pastimes, napping.
Bev finally announced that she intended to go back to the yard and finish a small area project she had started. I objected saying that it was too late in the evening to start some new project, besides she would have to change from her long lovely bright colored lounging dress to some old tattered work clothes. It just wouldn’t be worth it and would truly take her too long to get changed.
She was adamant she could change quickly and get out while there was still light to see her chosen project.
She did change quickly. Even I was surprised at how fast the change occurred. We stood in the in the back doorway chatting about general aches and pains. She regaled me with one of her current points of health issues. It seems that she has some trouble regaining perfect vision after watching television for a bit or working on her computer for a long time. She was standing sideways looking out at the back rolling greenery while she spoke.
As we talked, I noticed her favorite somewhat faded red tee shirt with the sparkling American flag on the front, looked a bit more shabby that usual. In fact the shoulder seams even looked more ragged than usual. It had been a favorite of mine too, but now it was truly on its last run. I even acknowledged, to myself, the fact it would soon be a member of my painting/cleaning rags armada.
Beverly turned toward me and the vision she presented was what set off the gales of laughter interspersed with howling swells, wheezing squeaks and tears of disbelief. What I saw was truly so out of character for my neatly dressed wife, even in work clothes.
Bewildered she stood where I pointed and let me photograph what I saw. There she stood with not only the flashing, sparkling American flag not showing but the large white name tag from the back of the shirt now squarely under her chin. She not only had the shirt on backwards but had it wrong side out.
She tried to explain what had happened but the more she explained the more hilarious it was.
It is said that laughter is a side benefit to good health. Indeed I should have enough good health for many months to come. I sat, I stood, I bent over and leaned on the door jamb, letting out the great rolling oceans of laughter that spontaneously erupted. Finally exhausted, I sat in the swing and just listened to the giggles that came from behind the bushes and flowers being weeded
We both had enjoyed the ageing episode. It would be put in our bank of happiness for future reference and enjoyment.
5.25.2009
I stood in the back door laughing until I could stand no longer. The scene was so preposterous, so out of character for my dear wife, that I couldn’t hold back the peals of hilarity.
Both of us had worked tirelessly to get our sprawling lawns and hundreds of feet of flowerbeds, for all intents and purpose, in perfect shape for the event. Our mantra is; Bev takes care of the weeding and planting and I do the lawns, shrubs, and bushes.
The greatest share of our lawns consists of carefully maintained turf grass. The kind of grass used in golf courses. It is a very close knit type of very fine Bermuda grass. This takes a special mower and great care to keep in shape. Actually with thirty years of experience I should have a good handle on it.
The watering (in Central California), the fertilizing, keeping the weeds and gophers out are all issues that keep us on task. In peak season we often must mow twice a week to really keep it at a beauty we care about. It gives us good exercise in the outdoors besides.
It is not uncommon for visitors to comment about the lawns. One frequent question is, “Is it real grass?”
At certain times of the day it looks truly like a very soft, lush, green velvet carpet. Of course it doesn’t always look like that. Winters we let the grass go dormant, which is good for me to take a break from maintenance and my good wife puts her energies to other projects as well.
The past weekend had been a huge project for us getting everything to perfection. Our former neighbor had passed away just six months before and we had promised the family they could have the memorial service here at our home.
We had even hand picked the dead leaves that seem to be released at night from the huge overhead magnolia tree and cluttered the carefully positioned white chairs. No blade of grass untrimmed, no branch hanging where it shouldn’t and all the flowers had been dead headed. We had put forth a huge effort to make everything just right for us and the family coming for the service. They were not disappointed.
It was a beautiful service in near perfect surroundings and we couldn’t have ordered better weather. We relished the beauty of Beverly’s carefully placed flowers and meticulously tended beds of accented flora. The beauty was stunning and hugely appreciated by those in attendance.
We collapsed the evening after the event, vowing not to do any more work in the yard for the time being. We would relax.
In our advancing years, we have tried to deal with the disabilities inherited with the aging territory. We gripe, complain, grumble and try to persuade each other that things are not as bad as they could be, but we get up and down a little more cautiously and with a little more care for creaking joints and diminished balance. We are in denial but mostly happy for each day that finishes without unusual incidents.
The next day the folding white chairs had been stacked, ready for the rental company to pick them up. The family had come and taken the last of the food serving items and we were ready to depart for a much needed outing of our own, a very mini get away.
We were truly tired when the afternoons tramp through the lavender farm was over. Bev ran through some prerecorded news broadcasts while I enjoyed one of my favorite pastimes, napping.
Bev finally announced that she intended to go back to the yard and finish a small area project she had started. I objected saying that it was too late in the evening to start some new project, besides she would have to change from her long lovely bright colored lounging dress to some old tattered work clothes. It just wouldn’t be worth it and would truly take her too long to get changed.
She was adamant she could change quickly and get out while there was still light to see her chosen project.
She did change quickly. Even I was surprised at how fast the change occurred. We stood in the in the back doorway chatting about general aches and pains. She regaled me with one of her current points of health issues. It seems that she has some trouble regaining perfect vision after watching television for a bit or working on her computer for a long time. She was standing sideways looking out at the back rolling greenery while she spoke.
As we talked, I noticed her favorite somewhat faded red tee shirt with the sparkling American flag on the front, looked a bit more shabby that usual. In fact the shoulder seams even looked more ragged than usual. It had been a favorite of mine too, but now it was truly on its last run. I even acknowledged, to myself, the fact it would soon be a member of my painting/cleaning rags armada.
Beverly turned toward me and the vision she presented was what set off the gales of laughter interspersed with howling swells, wheezing squeaks and tears of disbelief. What I saw was truly so out of character for my neatly dressed wife, even in work clothes.
Bewildered she stood where I pointed and let me photograph what I saw. There she stood with not only the flashing, sparkling American flag not showing but the large white name tag from the back of the shirt now squarely under her chin. She not only had the shirt on backwards but had it wrong side out.
She tried to explain what had happened but the more she explained the more hilarious it was.
It is said that laughter is a side benefit to good health. Indeed I should have enough good health for many months to come. I sat, I stood, I bent over and leaned on the door jamb, letting out the great rolling oceans of laughter that spontaneously erupted. Finally exhausted, I sat in the swing and just listened to the giggles that came from behind the bushes and flowers being weeded
We both had enjoyed the ageing episode. It would be put in our bank of happiness for future reference and enjoyment.
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