I had an armful of recyclables and was heading out the front door to put them in the bin. I stopped short. Edna was out, and not only that, Craig was standing there talking to her. He had just returned home from work and the two collided. Still holding the armful of junk, I sat at the table where I could see them talking, hoping I was out of sight.
Yeah, I took a picture.
I saw Craig gesturing over to the empty lot, and my heart leapt. Or more like, dived. Oh dear lord, knowing Craig, he was spilling my whole cock-eyed plan about buying the lot from her, telling her (with the endearing pride he shows for me and his total lack of privacy filter) all the crazy things I wanted to do.
I couldn't hardly go out there.
Why didn't I go out there? It's like when you have a giant crush on someone, and you see your best friend talking to them, and your first instinct is to run away, very far, until your best friend comes looking for you. And even then, you don't want to hear all the details of the rejection. At least, that's how it always seemed to work out for me and my obsessive--er--very-normal-not-stalkerish-at-all high school crushes. Wait. Does that make it sound like I have a crush on Edna? More like I'm terrified of her. It's her big old empty lot I'm crushing on.
I was mortified, embarrassed, shy, and just couldn't bear facing her if he was out there blithely discussing chickens and water barrels. All the plans I'd only half figured out. I didn't want to run out there and start sputtering and looking like an idiot. And truthfully, I was trying very hard to get supper on the table at the moment so we wouldn't be late for Noah's T-ball game.
Turns out, though, they didn't have a conversation about my cock-eyed dreams of homesteading on her extra space.
She told him all about her kids, her grandkids, great-grandkids, the sky, the weather...and everything else she could think of before Craig ran away, ears on fire. He did manage to stop her from talking, however, just long enough to tell her "You know, my wife would love to put a garden on your lot." Apparently she nodded, said "oh yes," and then "oh, no. That won't work. There is an underground stream going under that lot and nothing will grow there. Too wet."
Say..what? An underground stream? Um, ok. What in the world does that even mean? Well, if that's the only thing that she'd worried about, and she didn't say no to the actual garden itself, I just may have an in.
Now if I can get over there and chat, and take the idea even further.