There’s a place in my parent’s yard... beyond the grass, beyond the trellis, and beyond the pool. It’s in the very back corner of their lot, near a persimmon tree. This place is known as “way out back.”
I have to admit, my parents lot is not that big... I mean, we are in California after all... land is quite a premium. But, to my parents credit, their yard is nothing to sneeze at either. It’s a great size... and it’s very well designed. It has hosted many, many, MANY great parties-- and I know many more to come!
Well, enough about the yard. Back to “way out back,” and Mothers Day, of course! When I was growing up we had a golden retriever named Chloe. She was the best dog (and I’m not prejudice, she really was!). Anyway, at night before bed, you’d let her out in the back yard and say, “way out back, Chloe, way out back.” No fail, she’d tromp all the way to the back of the yard, do her business and gallop in ready for bed. Very well trained! No land mines scattered around the yard. Who could ask for anything better, right?
Well, it was on Mother’s Day, EVERY year that my mom said... “This year, kids, for Mother’s Day, I’d love help in the garden...” We’d all groan a little, then try to cop a smile, since Dad was giving us the eye. Then she’d stay... “Why don’t you start in the ‘way out back’ and clean out all of Chloe’s poop... and if there’s time you can plant a flower or 2.”
Oh great.... now that is not fun gardening in anyone’s book, I must say. Somehow, even after year after year of cleaning way out back, I surprisingly like to garden myself... but I don’t have a dog. That may have to wait awhile, even though Chloe was the best dog EVER!!
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