We had this wild storm one night. I was woken by the sound of crashing thunder and the general noise of a hellacious storm. I sighed, snuggled back under the covers, and went back to sleep. Why not? What else was I supposed to do?
Next morning, after breakfast, I took a quick stroll around the house checking for any damage. The normal sort of thing for the most part. A few branches down or broken and needing tidying up but no trees knocked over, which was a plus. What was a definite minus was the side fence was scattered across the yard. The neighbour's yard, which was another plus, but it was still jointly my fence and I'd be responsible for half the cost of having it rebuilt. Fortunately, that's what insurance is for.
The fencing people came out a few days later and started off by clearing away the old fence. Then they went home, telling us they'd be back on Monday to put up the new fence.
I wandered outside on Saturday afternoon to look things over. Everything looked fine as far as I could tell. More than fine, actually, as the young woman who lived next door was working on her garden, muttering to herself as she repaired the damage caused by the fallen fence.
She looked up at me as I strolled across to say hullo, giving me a ferocious glare.
"All this work will probably be for nothing," she griped, as though it was my fault. "Those heavy-footed workmen are going to trample all over the garden when they put up the new fence."
"Depends," I told her. "Tell them that you want the railings on your side of the fence. That means they'll be doing over ninety percent of their work from my side and I don't have a garden to worry about."
"I can do that?" she asked.
"Sure. I've no objection."
That earned me a big smile as she returned to her gardening. She had pansies in a long strip next to where the fence would be. Lots and lots of pansies.
"You've got a really colourful display there," I commented. "Too bad you can't take some of them inside for a floral display."
"All you know," she scoffed. "It all depends on how you display them. You can move some to small pots and take the pots inside. You can pick the flowers close to the stem and float several in a shallow bowl. You can harvest the petals and scatter them on doilies. You just need to use a bit of imagination."
I conceded that she had a point but also mentioned that flowers grown from bulbs or picked from bushes gave you a flower with a nice stem that you could display in vases. That was a point to me.
I kept the conversation going, knowing how keen she was where gardening was concerned. I suppose you're wondering why I was keeping her talking. Basically it was because Fiona was a lovely young lady of about twenty. Blonde hair, dark eyes that were quite a contrast, and a very nice build. Her bust was a reasonably modest B+ cup, but very shapely. Very shapely indeed.
