You Can Have Half

My dear friend Ebeth, who made me write this blog, scolded me last week after I told her I saw Grapefruit and ran back inside. She told me to "do it for the blog". So last night, I go to walk my dog, and there she is. I took a deep breath, and walked up to her.

"Hello!" I say to her.
She says hello, and mentions how warm it is. I agree. Then it gets weird, as always.
"You know that ceramic planter I have on the front porch between our doors? You can use half of it. Helen always did."
This is a rectangular planter we are talking about. It's ugly, along with her other porch decorations. And Helen is apparently the old lady who used to live in my condo. I guess she and Grapefruit were BFF. The logistics of this are what really blows my mind. I can use half? So I plant shit in half of it, and water my half? Why don't I just buy my own planter? Stupid.

So I thank Grapefruit for this kind offer, and tell her I would let my sister know, since I have put her in charge of planting flowers in front of my house. I told her I wasn't sure if it would fit in her design plan.
"You don't garden?" The way she says it is like you would ask someone in disbelief, "You eat children?"
I tell her no. She assures me it just takes practice.

We stand around akwardly for a minute or so, waiting for our dogs to do their business. Grapefruit takes her jacket off her tweed pantsuit. "It's so hot. I wonder why it feels so hot?"
"Well, there's no breeze." I tell her.
This excites Grapefruit. "OH, there's NOT!" She must now think I am a genius.

Thankfully, Bruiser does his thing at this time and I tell her goodbye. Until next time, dear Grapefruit.