We were lying on the couch outside today.

It's a trailer couch, also a pullout bed. I've slept on it a lot this summer, and bought a mosquito net for it a couple of weeks ago.

[Have you ever slept under one? I recommend them even if you have no mosquitos. If it's been too long since you were in a fairy tale, sleeping under a mosquito net will deliver you back.]

I had the couch pulled out last winter. Things were so sad here then. A worldwide desk, the Kenny Howes Memorial Desk in fact, went in its place. (When he heard it called that, he said you call something that when someone's dead. But then he went and died in my life, of his own will. So, maybe it's right.)


Anyway, I looked over my sun-bedraggled plants from the couch today, and felt bad.

Cause it's the garden of someone who isn't really here.


I want to change that.