August brought two full moons instead of one. Here is a picture of the second, or “blue” moon, seen over a water glass of fennel from the garden.

CatCub’s owner reports that now when CatCub watches out the window and sees me walking on the street, CatCub rushes to the front door and waits patiently for me to come in and visit her. This week she has me visiting three times a day while her owner is away. CatCub has started a new object permanence game to play with me. She waits for me to sit down with her cat brush. Then she stares at me from the floor. Then with a yip she leaps up and starts kneading my lap and purring, lashing her tail directly toward my eyes from pure exuberance. While I hold up the brush she decides how much of a brushing she wants, and for long, then leaps off my lap and hides. That way she’s in complete control, and that seems to make her feel safe. After hiding out of my sight for one minute, she pops out all ready for the next round. She can keep that up all day.

This morning, Melina was feeling some woe. Mom and Dad and Bernard, her baby brother, were all ready for fun at the playground. Everybody was waiting for Melina to hurry up and put on her socks. To their credit, they were going to give her all the time she needed to put the socks on by herself. But socks are tricky to put on, and the morning was getting hot. One sock was half inside out. The other sock had the heel upside down, facing up instead of down. Finally she sat down in the building lobby and had to start over; not only that, but she couldn’t find her water bottle. “Here it is,” I pointed out, finding it in the outdoor stroller. But no, that’s not the special bottle! Fortunately, Mom appeared with Melina’s special bottle; Mom had filled it full of ice as a surprise. Now after playtime Melina and Bernard could have nice cold water in their bottles. The sock battle was a victory, and the family headed out.

Later, Melina ran over to tell me about the playground. She found me sweeping the garden walk. “Whatcha doing?” she asked. “I’m on Rock Patrol,” I told her. “And now YOU can be a Rock Ranger too.” Naturally, she came closer to investigate this special offer. I pointed out some little rocks that were sneaking out of the rock bed and on to the sidewalk. “When Mrs. D. walks this way after supper, sometimes she steps on a pebble or rock. It feels shaky, and she’s afraid that she might fall down. We don’t want that! When I see a rock that got lost, I put it back home in the rock bed. You can too.”

Last week I arrived home from work, and in front of our building found an ambulance with emergency personnel just slamming the doors. Oh no! Which neighbor? I sprinted across the parking lot, and was 2 seconds too late just as the back doors of the ambulance closed. It felt sad to miss the chance to wish them well. And what if they had pets or plants to care for? Were they ever coming back? I know that curious interested ambulance-chasing neighbors are a real distraction and delay for paramedics and EMTs. So I only gave them an appreciative wave and got out of their way.

Fortunately, I already had two phone texts letting me know which neighbor it was, and we had a fast-moving group text consult on the spot. Who’s got apartment keys? Who’s driving to the ER right now to sit and be company? Who will pick out personal care comfortries and deliver them tomorrow? Who will watch for and take in the Amazon deliveries? In no time we had a good strategy. As one of them said “It takes a village!”

On the street outside the grocery store, Seth from Produce called to me with interesting news. He showed me a real treasure in the photos on his phone: a serendipitous forage discovery of a particular beautiful mushroom. It’s a delicacy in spectacular demand; I’ve never tasted one. Local chefs who take pride in signature local gourmet foods have assured Seth that they will welcome all he can find, at top prices. Through years of study and exploration, Seth has worked out a sense for the precise habitat and annual climate of these showy creatures. He was kind enough to divulge the whole list of conducive conditions, none of which I will mention here or anywhere. And now, as innovative people do, Seth is taking smaller specimens and painstakingly culturing the spores so he can add them to his home mushroom ventures. It was a real spirit lifter to share his enthusiasm for nature, and to see how industrious he is about raising and prizing good produce.

This afternoon I lugged and hauled the hose around and gave the Wing Family garden a good soaking. A passing neighbor, one famed for his hearty and antic sense of humor, said “Why Mary — that’s very kind! I didn’t know you had it in you. I think I’ll text and let Wing know that his garden is baked toast and everything is dead. You were fed up with all this field labor, and two weeks ago you went on strike. I’ll remind him too, that if ya make a Catholic woman angry, ya better watch your back!” He and Captain are friends from way back, so I invited him to send off tidings as he sees fit; far be it from me, to get in the way of male bonding. Meanwhile, their butterscotch dahlias are just flourishing:

In Mrs. Wing’s herb patch there is some kind of mystery bulb, putting up small flowers in delicate tones. It will be interesting to see her again, and find out the name of this little visitor.

We look forward to seeing them soon. Happy trails, Friends!