I was walking through the yard on my way to work when I noticed Farmer Small hanging out by a hanging basket of flowers. "Hey Farmer Small. I thought we agreed that you were going to stay out of my flower gardens."
"I'm not in the flower garden. I'm on the hummingbird feeder."
"And what are you doing on the hummingbird feeder?"
He threw up his hands in exasperation as he answered.
"I'm going to catch a ride on the hummingbird."
Of course. Why else would one hang out on the hummingbird feeder?
"Does the hummingbird know about this?" I asked.
"Not yet," said Farmer Small.
"Well, have fun trying to ride the hummingbird."
Farmer Small smiled at me. "Well, you have fun going to work."
Hmmmm. I suspect that Farmer Small will have more fun than I will today.
Roses saved from bugs!
"Hey, guess what?"
"Hi Farmer Small," I said. "Nice to see you! What brings you inside?"
"Aren't you going to guess?" asked Farmer Small.
"Sure, I can guess. You came in to tell me that we should be getting fresh vegetables from the garden soon."
"No, that's not it," said Farmer Small. "There might be some vegetables in the garden but it's hard to tell with all the weeds."
"Well, you know our deal. You are in charge of the vegetables and I am in charge of the flowers."
"That's the surprise," said Farmer Small. "I helped you with the flowers."
" You helped - how?" I said.
" I saved your roses," said Farmer Small.
" From what?"
"How did you save them from bugs?"
"I cut them, and brought them inside."
I looked at the floor and saw a pile of greenery, thorns and rose petals. Some bloomless bushes were visible through the window. The flower garden looked like Edward Scissorhands had a seizure in it.
"Exactly how many roses did you save?" I asked.
" Almost all of them," he said. " I can finish this afternoon!"
"We have bug spray, you know," I said.
"Bug spray?" asked Farmer Small. "Organic bug spray?"
"That should work," he mused.
"Yes, that's why we have it. So we can enjoy the roses on the rose bushes. Outside. In the flower garden. Where you are not supposed to be."
"So you're not going to thank me for saving your roses?" asked Farmer Small.
"Why don't you go save the vegetables from the weeds," I said. "That might inspire some gratitude."
He was muttering as he hopped off the table." I doubt it."