I went to a Garden Party

I went to a garden party, and to my surprise, I saw a face that was familiar but out of context. Then it hit me, "I know you from tennis."

First, I thought, "What are you doing here," but asked more politely, "How do you know this group?" It turns out that her husband is a guitarist in the host's band, and they are long-time friends.

It was another connection in this cool web of the Waitsburg, Walla Walla, Dayton small-town labyrinth of friends. And, not that I would have anything bad to say, but it's a good reminder of my mother's words of wisdom.

First, if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything.

Second, don't ever make a derogatory comment about someone; it will come back to haunt you.

The party was a welcome break with perfect temperatures, great wines, snacks, and a beautiful garden in which to enjoy them. I chatted with friends, met new people, and avoided some of the realities of life.

Back home was an unmitigated disaster site waiting for me to clean. I had enjoyed the breezy Saturday evening, so when I went to bed, I left the back door and windows open. Sunday morning, I woke up to a houseful of sand, dust, and grit in every room; the countertops were covered, the floors were like sandboxes, and the windowsills were brown and gritty. Basically, the evening's wind storm covered all the surfaces and crevices with dust and dirt.

Daniel slept in Sunday morning, so there was no chance I could vacuum. I had to get ready to play tennis, so I attempted to start cleaning with a bit of silent sweeping. Then, stupidly, I got out the Swiffer Wet Jet. My floors went from grit to mud.

Giving up on the floors, I cleaned a few countertops and the stovetop, which had been buried under an avalanche. Moving to the bathroom, I cleaned the counter but decided the bathtub could wait until I showered-a twofer.

Arriving home after tennis, Daniel was awake, so I went on a vacuuming mission. Then I pulled out the mop, filled the sink with Murphy's Oil and water, and began mopping. The Murphy's left things a little sticky, so I had more muddy floors. And now they were covered in paw prints because Mugsy was running around the house trying to get me to play with him.

For a break, I went outside to see how the garden was progressing. Cucumbers seem to be slowing down; I think I've had about five total, and I'm not confident I'll see any more. Cherry tomatoes continue to take over the world, with the zucchini a close second. I am happy to say that my acorn squash is doing well.

The star of the garden continues to be spaghetti squash. I've picked four or five with an average weight of over five pounds. I have tons more growing and ready to be harvested. I found homes for some and brought one to the garden party. I hate to come to a party empty-handed, and it was a way to get rid of another squash. Yay, another twofer.

Tuesdays are not a tennis day, so I know I will spend more time digging out of dirt, getting Mugsy bathed (always an experience,) and some much-needed weeding.

Most importantly, I will always remember, "Shut the door and windows if it's windy or even a little breezy.