Life is interesting, don’t you think? Often, it moves along like slow shifting clouds across the sky. Other times, it is like swift lightning storm fussing overhead, full of furry and might and gone in a flash. My girlfriends often tell me, “Catherine, no man is going to show up on your front door – you have to get out more”. But what does one do who loves to garden, write and play with children? These tasks keep me close to home and the only places I am ever interested in going (if we aren’t talking travel here) is any bookstore, a hike through nature, any garden store, any hardware store or the beach.
Lately my gardening has expanded to the back (or the front – depending on how you look at my place) with the planting of more rose bushes and a sitting area. This new side faces the street and a completely new world. I am falling in love with the world just outside my back gate, which happens to be street side. I love all my neighbors on this side, which are an active bunch to say the least.
With the simple gesture of taking orange bread to my neighbors across the way when their family member died, I have somehow become a new member of their family. They now cross our busy street visit me. It is just the cutest thing. One happens to be a single man from SF who drives a big truck and has a beautiful Harley motorcycle. I do not know what it is about men with Harley’s and me, but they always seem to like me – no matter the size of my ass. They are often breast men and Lordy, as we all know, I have breasts - to say the least.
This one comes up when I am pulling weeds, washing my truck, chasing Brian’s dog – any situation where I have no make up on and my ass (I am sure) looks like Texas in sweat pants. He smiles at me like I am the prettiest thing and talks to me in the most respectful manner. Today he came across and actually knocked on my sliding glass door, which startled me.
There, at my door is this man with arm full of potted flowers – mostly tulips, one of my favorite flowers. “Hi Catherine, I hope you don’t mind, but people brought all these potted flowers and I noticed that you love to garden, so I would like you to have all the flowers”. He says, blushing between the tulips in his arms. I squeal with delight, as I love flowers and exclaim, “I LOVE tulips, I know exactly where to put these. Thank you somuch.” He stays for a while enjoying smalltalk about death. I have been there, so I know what things to ask. We are kindred spirits now.
As the day wears on, he brings more and more flowers until my place is filled with flowered baskets full of tulips, daisies, roses and the like. Suddenly it dawns on me that Brian is going to have one hell of a Valentines Day, and for me, my place is filled with my favorite thing – flowers. How special that someone’s death gives forth love and beauty to strangers. My place looks like a garden, both inside and out.
As I leave for my writers club meeting, he races over with two more baskets of tulips and four neighbor men that live up the street whistle and yell that it is about time they see me in a skirt. As he hands me the tulips and my face turns beat red, he comments, “This must happen to you all the time”. “Only when I travel outside California,” I answer. He looks at me puzzled, but I don’t bother to explain. I am still flatteredthat he noticed how much I love to garden while caring for a family member dying of cancer.
Here I thought Valentines Day would be all about my son…we still have 36 Valentines to get ready for Tuesday. But now my place is filled with beautiful flowers and I feel like some man has surprised me with an amazing romantic gift....a home filled with flowers. I suppose one rather did.
When I returned home from the meeting tonight he walked over a basket of daisies. “You look pretty tonight” he said. I could feel the warmth cover my cheeks as I said “Thank you" and took the flowers from his arms. “I am going to miss watching you Catherine…when I leave” he says. “Why?” I asked as he exits my gate. “Because you are one hell of a mom, and any man that watches you can see that…night” he waves. “Night” I respond as I pull this latest basket of flowers to my face.
And who said I ever had to leave my home....?
Until next time-
C
PS. I will say that I do miss my tech career, especially working with nothing but men all day. I don’t think about it until I come in contact with the type of men I would be working with (if I were still troubleshooting systems and software). I guess I will always be that geek girl … no amount of make-up, hair and heelswill ever really change that. I miss the cool geek men.
