Watch out Martha

Yesterday I was meeting Emmy for a coffee in the late afternoon and decided to bring my friend a treat from my garden, flowers and figs.

I shooed off the cardinals feasting on the ripe figs as sweat dripped off the tip of my nose, and wondered why we never see Martha Stewart in this state as she prepares one of her fanciful garden projects.

Despite my time in the yard in my holey t-shirt and frizzy hair, I did manage to feel a bit Martha-esque as I walked out the door with my bouquet of caterpillar nibbled flowers and fresh figs in many stages of ripeness. And believe it or not, there is something very satisfying about that.