With the weather blazing hot and the humidity so dense it sucks the breath out of you, I was down on all fours in the garden, handpicking out the wire grass and other pesky invaders and trying relentlessly to swat gnats and stay on the lookout for kamikaze bumble bees who are upset at my unreasonable intrusion into their daily routine of bee buzzing and flower tending. I must have been a comical sight with my floppy sun hat and huge, insect-eye like sunglasses, rummaging through the undergrowth. Though the heat was penetrating my brain and baking my senses, I distinctly heard a little chuckle within the lavender. When the stems and leaves parted ...
Hermione was there in the garden inspecting the lavender crop and checking out the Black-Eyed Susans and gathering a little thyme for her evening salad.
She decided to rest next to the Black-Eyed Susans and we got caught up on each other's projects and gossip. When she asked how the writing of stories was going, I swallowed hard and could not answer her. She insisted on scolding me for not getting on with my writing about Frog Bottom Borough. After I whined off at least 10 excuses for not writing, she gave me that look:
stood up with a large hrrrummmph and said, "Well, my dear, they are not going to write themselves!" and waddled off into the undergrowth.
Guess I'd better get busy! Ouch! Where is that bug spray!??