Oh oops — it’s an even-numbered date. My turn to water the garden. Should have thought of it sooner, but I was out at the store stocking up on bulk grains. Well, ok. Downstairs we go.

Ok, so bumbling in the dark with this triple-sized hose trying not to trip or to trip the smokers who are innocently strolling to their designated zone by the garbage cage and who don’t expect the shrubbery to be full of water or me. I collected some ankle-level bug bites right away even through my compression stockings, narrowly avoided taking out a really ambitious giant spider web, and panicked some bunnies who realized that sitting perfectly still could get them thwacked with the hose.

You saw this coming. All this nocturnal activity was way too much action to miss. One of our resident little girls and her Mom hurried to help by turning on their Christmas lights to illuminate the work and give the scene a festive air. Melina, another of our little girls, rushed outside wearing a pretty flouncy white dress with twirly skirt, costumed much like the white gladiolas in this picture, with a public service announcement: she and her Dad were coming outside! to re-home a scary bug! that got into the house! As far as my ankles went, one more bite wasn’t going to make much difference except to the bug, so I told Melina to bring it on.

Melina left her hula hoop outside their door, because with a good toy or game you never know when it might come in handy later in the day. She has a little rotating exhibit of hoops and balls and such going on. That’s against building rules, but the Management team somehow fail to notice because Melina keeps rushing out to greet everybody with a Richter magnitude of friendly cuteness.

I did a pretty ham-handed job with the hose and its sprayer and all those heavy coils. Melina told me all about her family hose, how the nozzle has many adjustable volume options but her very favorite is JET all the way. I have to admit that yes, if I used JET all the way with this hose, I’d be finished in no time. Of course, the plants would be finished too, so we’ll have to trudge along with regular gentle spray. She and I made a plan that I’ll bring my own hula hoop downstairs, maybe tomorrow, and we can do some hulaing.

Dad though reminds her that the family is going swimming tomorrow. That leads to a discussion: what happens when you hula hoop in water? Is it really easy, or really hard? Will the hoop sink? If it floats, can you stand still and just let the water float the hoop around, and if so does that count as real hooping?

Finally done! Well, most of it. I had to skip Mrs. Wing’s many small pots of special herbs; they are too hard to see in the dark up on the wall, and I don’t want to knock them over. But, enough water got tossed around that they should be okay. I started wrapping up coil after coil of hose to put it away, musing to Melina’s Dad that this is good training if I ever want to go to the Everglades and pin down pythons for cash. He had not heard of this Florida entertainment, and was probably not expecting this conversation while taking out a simple bag of recycling. But he wished me well in whichever path (Snakes vs. Hoses) I might choose, and did it in a hearty Scottish accent. I tried a Braveheart accent in return with unconvincing success.

“My Braveheart accent just sounds like Supernanny instead,” I had to admit.

“I was aiming for Monty Python,” he explained, guiding a suddenly sleepy Melina off to bed by the hand.

I stayed a moment to catch a picture of the gladiolas while trying hard not to scratch my ankles.

As I headed for the door a bunny watched me, sitting very very still.