My Own spent time deconstructing a garden this morning. (Although, what she calls "weeding,"
I call getting rid of perfectly tasty long grasses.)
I watched her from my place by the garden gate.
She in turn, watched me, from time to time, as she worked in the lily bed.
When it was time for lunch, My Own gathered me up.
She told me I was an inspiration, a poetic presence.
Her pudding pie!
(Because my ears are the color of butterscotch.)
I slept the afternoon away while she mixed colors with water and created my likeness from memory.
Tiggy says she captured my "best side!"
Noll in his Garden
June 12, 2011