The plan for today was for Lizard Breath to “pick me up” for lunch and a wee flower shopping trip. (She drives over and drives Cygnus, which has more room than Ruby for hauling flowers.)

I was a little surprised (but shouldn’t have been) when we were texting yesterday and she said something like, “I’ll be at your house at 10:45. Sessions opens at 11:00 and that’ll get you home before the witching hour.” And then, “Neither of us likes the late afternoon.” LOLOLOL! Does my kiddo know me or what? I knew my own mother pretty well but not sure if I knew her THAT well. But my kiddo is a crackerjack.

So we got to Sessions right around 11:00 AM (and that’s fine, I had been up since before six and prefer an early lunch). WE WERE THE FIRST PEOPLE AT SESSIONS. Jason/Jacob/J-something was our server and when I asked if we could have a booth he (appropriately and we were all joking) said something like, “You can sit wherever you want.” Indeed. The other thing about this is that my beach urchin ALSO tends to like to eat lunch on the early side.

After lunch we headed out to Hilltop Greenhouse and Farms, out on Liberty past where there is deep water over the road at the moment. We were getting meeee impatiens to pot for the Landfill back yard and various flowers and a huge fern for her front porch.

I decided I would be the Cart Lady. There were other mother/daughter shoppers there today and at one point, I moved our cart so that another baggy old Cart Lady could get through the aisle. She said something like, “Women are better drivers than men.” I replied, “Yes! We were just talking about that at lunch.” And we were but that’s as far as I’ll go with that.

Anyway, not to say that my daughter(s) are my clones. They most certainly are not. Thankfully for them (and me), they seem to have inherited some of my better qualities? And not some of my “other” qualities…

I got home before the witching hour and spent the dreaded late afternoon in beautiful sunny 75-degree weather in the Landfill back yard.

Musing: I remember when Becquet (intentionally misspelled) next door was a pre-schooler and she and her dad played frisbee in the yard between our houses. Tonight, years later, she is shooting baskets into the portable hoop they have set up in their driveway. She is out of my sight but I can hear the basketball bouncing and I love it. I wasn’t bad at basketball when I was a grade school kid. We lived across the street from my grade school and there was a basketball court directly across the street from my house. Ice rink in the winter.

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