Gardening and Writing
There is nothing like a long day in the yard, digging and planting, and adding color to get the creative mind flowing.
While I was out there in the beautiful New England sun getting filthy dirty, I came up with a new writing prompt.
Digging a hole for her pansies. . .
Have fun and let me know what you come up with.
2 comments:
Digging a hole for her pansies, Michelle heard the approaching hoofbeats.
"Oh, no you don't" she grumbled under her breath and jumped to her feet. She stood, ready to protect her garden at any cost to the destroyer who was approaching at a quick, enthusiastic trot.
He came around the corner of her drive, neck high, ears pricked forward, headed straight for her. How could a pony look so cute and be so destructive at the same time.
Well, he wasn't going to get around her this time. She leaned down and picked up a rope she'd attach to the halter as soon as the brut got close enough.
But Buckwheat didn't want to be caught. He was quick on his feet and as soon as she approached him, he went around her, reminding her of a football player, hellbent on getting the football down to his end of the field.
"Don't chase him!"
Michelle looked away from the pony and saw Tim Gibbons running up the driveway, a rope of his own in his hand.
"He's not getting my flowers again," she yelled back.
"You're just going to make him run more."
This was the third time the pony had been loose on the neighborhood and into her yard. It was an interesting way to meet her new neighbor, the completely sexy Tim with his dark brown hair and gray-blue eyes. Each time he apologized profusely with a follow up delivery of flowers to replace the ones Buckwheat decimated.
This was becoming quite a habit.
"Seriously, Gibbons, if you want to ask me out there are other ways of getting my attention." She meant it as a joke, sort of.
Tim paused, his attention away from the pony, and stared at her. His shocked expression turned into a grin.
"Okay then, will you go out with me, dinner Friday night?"
She really hadn't meant for him to ask, but now he did, a warm rush of anticipation flooded through her. It was enough to get her mind off the pony.
"Would love to." A sudden blur to her left caught her attention.
Buckwheat had taken advantage of their distracted moment and was now trampling through her marigolds.
"Just remember to get me a combination of yellow and orange marigolds. House By The Side Of The Road has the best selection."
Tim laughed. He approached slowly, his attention focused on the pony who was no preoccupied with finding something tasty.
When he was close enough he clipped the rope onto the pony's halter and extracted him carefully from the garden.
"I tell you what, if you come with me to the garden store on Saturday, you can pick out anything you'd like. On me."
Michelle raised a brow. "Hmm. You think Friday night is going to go that well?"
He shot her a body-melting grin. "I think it's going to better than that. Any woman who can put up with a pony in their garden without calling the cops is someone after my heart."
Now Michelle laughed. "Your pony is quite the little cupid, isn't he?"
"I hope so," Tim replied fervently.
HA! That was wicked cute.
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