I haven’t posted here for several weeks but, trust me, any reports of my death are erroneous. I can envision how such a report might happen. Someone borrows your name, birth date and insurance card number to pay for an ambulance ride. At the hospital, they fall off the gurney, bang their head on the floor and croak. With your info on the chart, your next of kin get the call that you have expired.
I talked to both the ambulance company and my insurance provider. The ambulance people twice said it smelled rank. The insurer claims it a mere “mistake” by the ambulance people. At any rate, it was supposedly removed from my account. My brother-in-law, Mr. Priss, claims this could only happen to me but if that’s the case, am I the only one opening claim statements from the health insurance company?
I have no amazing gardening stories to share this season because it has been too hot, too humid, and too rainy, in my opinion. I have no idea what the weatherman thinks about it. The humidity is 71% at 9 in the morning and it rains almost every day. Such miserable rain forest conditions offer no encouragement for spending time in the garden. Some of the weeds are two feet high and they can stay that way until it cools down.
In May the Gator Pond was bone dry. In June, one of God’s angels turned on the rain spigot and forgot to turn it back off. The Gator Pond now overfloweth. Before you get all excited thinking I live among alligators, let me assure you that no self-respecting gator would lay claim to a five foot wide pond.
The Gator Pond
The Gator Pond got its name from my mail art friends, who, generally speaking, are just like me – they hang out on the other side of normal. However, they were quite normal when it came to associating Florida with alligators, swamps and mosquitos big enough to saddle and ride. Mail arrived addressed to “Gator Bait,” “Gator Jones” and even “Godforsaken Rockless Swampland Jones” (yes, I suffered from rock envy in the 90’s, too). Learning of a small pond at the edge of the woods started their wild stories about my living next to the “Gator Pond.” The name stuck and just yesterday, my brother made a verbal reference to the Gator Pond.
In other Southern Rural Route news, both Mrs. Golf Cart and her step-daughter grew their first vegetable gardens this spring/summer. I’ll admit to being pleased they took this path because I can remember the excitement of walking into my first garden and finding a one inch string bean or a teeny tiny tomato. Everyone should experience this magic at least once in their lives.