The King of Produce (reaper) called yesterday. (Hi King! wanna buy some produce?) I'll have fennel, strawberries and eggplant in 90 days, not to mention radishes, carrots, leeks and heirloom tomatos.
So far, The Gardener (sower) hasn't done anything wrong. I mean except break my finger and try to ravage me. he opens doors, says "yes dear", calls every day and is taking me for Sushi tomorrow. (i cancelled my fourth date with the artist tonight. i was feeling sick. I don't seem to be able to tolerate this pain medication.) The Gardener promised to bring a bouquet of flowers for "the patient" and bring supplies to re-tape my splint.
With the cancer scare, i'm alone at a crossroad. It's a lonely place.
The Gardener takes charge. I like it. Maybe he's a playboy just looking for fun. I'll discern his intenions on date number two. i'm gonna flat out ask what his intentions are and flat out reveal mine. No more wasting time.
The Gardener left his shoes and clothes on my deck.