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Yesterday I did less than usual, and mostly upper-body stuff (because my knees were feeling sore). I came home with sore arms, but they're better this morning.
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Yesterday I did less than usual, and mostly upper-body stuff (because my knees were feeling sore). I came home with sore arms, but they're better this morning.
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Moshe emailed me a couple of days ago to invite me to come out to Flushing today for dim sum and gardening: specifically, that after lunch we'd go buy flowers, then plant them.
He emailed me again on Saturday, asking if I'd gotten his message. I told him that I had, and had replied--but probably not changed the address in the message. (After I sent it, I realized that that mistake was his: he should have set a Reply-to header. No big deal.) The plan was to meet him and a couple of other people for dim sum at 12:30, at a place in Flushing he selected.
I got there at 12:15. The restaurant isn't there anymore. There's a nice shiny sign identifying the construction contractor, tacked to the metal shutter, and the awning is still in place. I called him, got the machine, and left a message saying that we needed a new plan. Then I took out my book.
At 12:50, having tried a second time (in case he'd been in the bathroom or something), I called Andy to see if Moshe had tried to reach me at home. No. I was about to give up, find someplace to eat on my own, and go to the Botanical Garden when I saw Lise walking toward me, with Andy Porter. She had no idea of where Moshe was either, but we settled on a second dim sum restaurant, left him a note, and settled in. Moshe arrived sometime after the first plate of dumplings, and about halfway through the clams in black bean sauce. He'd been off buying a clock at Target, and it took longer than he'd expected. I'd really have liked to hear the word "sorry" in there somewhere, but we were having a good time with the dim sum and conversation.
Eventually, we had eaten at least as much as we had room for. Lise went to rest her sore back, and the rest of us went to Home Depot, which proved to be crowded and have less choice (and poorer quality) of plants than we'd hoped, but we found a few things that Moshe liked and I thought were in acceptable condition. We bought them, a wheelbarrow, and a few odds and ends, and took the lot back to Moshe's.
Somehow, we got to pulling up weeds and cutting back the overgrown bushes. Eventually, I checked the time and realized I needed to leave in order to be home for dinner; we'd discussed what plants to put where (the bed Moshe had been thinking of turned out, when he actually looked at it in the afternoon, to get less sun than he'd thought), but not actually done anything. Still, all the weeding was fun, even if my back hurt by the end, and I got to work to the scent of the lilac in the backyard.
I do wish I'd gotten to the Shad Festival in the park across the street this year, though.
He emailed me again on Saturday, asking if I'd gotten his message. I told him that I had, and had replied--but probably not changed the address in the message. (After I sent it, I realized that that mistake was his: he should have set a Reply-to header. No big deal.) The plan was to meet him and a couple of other people for dim sum at 12:30, at a place in Flushing he selected.
I got there at 12:15. The restaurant isn't there anymore. There's a nice shiny sign identifying the construction contractor, tacked to the metal shutter, and the awning is still in place. I called him, got the machine, and left a message saying that we needed a new plan. Then I took out my book.
At 12:50, having tried a second time (in case he'd been in the bathroom or something), I called Andy to see if Moshe had tried to reach me at home. No. I was about to give up, find someplace to eat on my own, and go to the Botanical Garden when I saw Lise walking toward me, with Andy Porter. She had no idea of where Moshe was either, but we settled on a second dim sum restaurant, left him a note, and settled in. Moshe arrived sometime after the first plate of dumplings, and about halfway through the clams in black bean sauce. He'd been off buying a clock at Target, and it took longer than he'd expected. I'd really have liked to hear the word "sorry" in there somewhere, but we were having a good time with the dim sum and conversation.
Eventually, we had eaten at least as much as we had room for. Lise went to rest her sore back, and the rest of us went to Home Depot, which proved to be crowded and have less choice (and poorer quality) of plants than we'd hoped, but we found a few things that Moshe liked and I thought were in acceptable condition. We bought them, a wheelbarrow, and a few odds and ends, and took the lot back to Moshe's.
Somehow, we got to pulling up weeds and cutting back the overgrown bushes. Eventually, I checked the time and realized I needed to leave in order to be home for dinner; we'd discussed what plants to put where (the bed Moshe had been thinking of turned out, when he actually looked at it in the afternoon, to get less sun than he'd thought), but not actually done anything. Still, all the weeding was fun, even if my back hurt by the end, and I got to work to the scent of the lilac in the backyard.
I do wish I'd gotten to the Shad Festival in the park across the street this year, though.
Moshe emailed me a couple of days ago to invite me to come out to Flushing today for dim sum and gardening: specifically, that after lunch we'd go buy flowers, then plant them.
He emailed me again on Saturday, asking if I'd gotten his message. I told him that I had, and had replied--but probably not changed the address in the message. (After I sent it, I realized that that mistake was his: he should have set a Reply-to header. No big deal.) The plan was to meet him and a couple of other people for dim sum at 12:30, at a place in Flushing he selected.
I got there at 12:15. The restaurant isn't there anymore. There's a nice shiny sign identifying the construction contractor, tacked to the metal shutter, and the awning is still in place. I called him, got the machine, and left a message saying that we needed a new plan. Then I took out my book.
At 12:50, having tried a second time (in case he'd been in the bathroom or something), I called Andy to see if Moshe had tried to reach me at home. No. I was about to give up, find someplace to eat on my own, and go to the Botanical Garden when I saw Lise walking toward me, with Andy Porter. She had no idea of where Moshe was either, but we settled on a second dim sum restaurant, left him a note, and settled in. Moshe arrived sometime after the first plate of dumplings, and about halfway through the clams in black bean sauce. He'd been off buying a clock at Target, and it took longer than he'd expected. I'd really have liked to hear the word "sorry" in there somewhere, but we were having a good time with the dim sum and conversation.
Eventually, we had eaten at least as much as we had room for. Lise went to rest her sore back, and the rest of us went to Home Depot, which proved to be crowded and have less choice (and poorer quality) of plants than we'd hoped, but we found a few things that Moshe liked and I thought were in acceptable condition. We bought them, a wheelbarrow, and a few odds and ends, and took the lot back to Moshe's.
Somehow, we got to pulling up weeds and cutting back the overgrown bushes. Eventually, I checked the time and realized I needed to leave in order to be home for dinner; we'd discussed what plants to put where (the bed Moshe had been thinking of turned out, when he actually looked at it in the afternoon, to get less sun than he'd thought), but not actually done anything. Still, all the weeding was fun, even if my back hurt by the end, and I got to work to the scent of the lilac in the backyard.
I do wish I'd gotten to the Shad Festival in the park across the street this year, though.
He emailed me again on Saturday, asking if I'd gotten his message. I told him that I had, and had replied--but probably not changed the address in the message. (After I sent it, I realized that that mistake was his: he should have set a Reply-to header. No big deal.) The plan was to meet him and a couple of other people for dim sum at 12:30, at a place in Flushing he selected.
I got there at 12:15. The restaurant isn't there anymore. There's a nice shiny sign identifying the construction contractor, tacked to the metal shutter, and the awning is still in place. I called him, got the machine, and left a message saying that we needed a new plan. Then I took out my book.
At 12:50, having tried a second time (in case he'd been in the bathroom or something), I called Andy to see if Moshe had tried to reach me at home. No. I was about to give up, find someplace to eat on my own, and go to the Botanical Garden when I saw Lise walking toward me, with Andy Porter. She had no idea of where Moshe was either, but we settled on a second dim sum restaurant, left him a note, and settled in. Moshe arrived sometime after the first plate of dumplings, and about halfway through the clams in black bean sauce. He'd been off buying a clock at Target, and it took longer than he'd expected. I'd really have liked to hear the word "sorry" in there somewhere, but we were having a good time with the dim sum and conversation.
Eventually, we had eaten at least as much as we had room for. Lise went to rest her sore back, and the rest of us went to Home Depot, which proved to be crowded and have less choice (and poorer quality) of plants than we'd hoped, but we found a few things that Moshe liked and I thought were in acceptable condition. We bought them, a wheelbarrow, and a few odds and ends, and took the lot back to Moshe's.
Somehow, we got to pulling up weeds and cutting back the overgrown bushes. Eventually, I checked the time and realized I needed to leave in order to be home for dinner; we'd discussed what plants to put where (the bed Moshe had been thinking of turned out, when he actually looked at it in the afternoon, to get less sun than he'd thought), but not actually done anything. Still, all the weeding was fun, even if my back hurt by the end, and I got to work to the scent of the lilac in the backyard.
I do wish I'd gotten to the Shad Festival in the park across the street this year, though.
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