This week has been filled with a delightful series of diversions. It’s amazing this post even ma–
Whoa.
What the…?
Is that my backyard?
I got home yesterday and someone had planted flowers. Lovely purple, orange and yellow, ah, daisies geraniums I-don’t-know-’ems, just to the side of my door.
I assumed it was the landlord, but even still, like any New Jersey native, my first instinct was suspicion.
I immediately texted a photo to Babs (my mom).
“Check the house. Is anything missing?” she replied in two seconds flat.
“Maybe he’s just trying to be nice?” My words sounded weak, even in writing.
“Did he use the flowers from your flower box?” she asked.
“No…” I answered.
“I hope they’re not flowers FOR YOUR GRAVE.”
“I hope I don’t come home tomorrow and they spell, ‘YOU’RE EVICTED.'”
It’s not that my landlord is a bad guy. No, no, no. He just, well, he seems to be of the more frugal variety, and in almost two years of renting, I haven’t seen any other display of Mother Nature’s bounty.
I’ll keep you posted. Random acts of kindness must not be trusted.
Have you had any surprises lately?
P.S. – Seriously, guys. What the hell kind of flowers are those?
~*~*~*~*~
Go Jules Go 