Met X at a bookstore to exchange some paperwork this afternoon. She looked awful, usually does of late (then again, so do I ). I tried some pleasantries, some new-granddaughter questions, etc. She seemed taken off guard by that. Maybe because of last week when I rebuffed her ludicrous "let's-be-friends, now" grand gesture.
Leaving, I was thinking I just do not like her anymore. I don't dislike her - at least not yet, despite having been given such ample reasons to. I just don't like her.
Of course, as I just mentioned to poet, three hours later I'm out back in the garden we built side-by-side over years, and the damn tears start to come again. I left the garden, came back inside.
Go friggin' figure.
Gardener
"My soul, be satisfied with flowers, With fruit, with weeds even; but gather them In the one garden you may call your own." Cyrano deBergerac
). I tried some pleasantries, some new-granddaughter questions, etc. She seemed taken off guard by that. Maybe because of last week when I rebuffed her ludicrous "let's-be-friends, now" grand gesture.
