Jane’s Outward Bound application is officially complete. Yesterday she had a ten minute phone call with someone from their staff. She stood in the courtyard at school on my phone shuffling her feet, smiling, laughing and saying things like, “I’m kind of nervous about that but I’m excited too.” and after a lot of yeses and nos she kicked her heels in the air, handed the phone to me and sang out, “He said to tell you that I’ve been accepted.”
So Outward Bound is official and now I’m nervous about the flight. 10 days in the wilderness under a tarp doesn’t worry me but LAX to SEA is where I feel like things could go horribly wrong. I’m sure it’s just a feeling.
I had another interview this week with a landscaper, and it didn’t go as well. When you drive around Los Angeles there are these fabulous sun gardens that are full and bright and change with the seasons (few things change with the seasons here). Some of his most beautiful displays have little signs with a phone number on them. I called the number and was informed that I had to not let my gardener near the area, it would be a $1,200 install, $200 a month maintenance and they’d come out to examine the property and see if there was an appropriate place for the mini garden.
I shuddered a little at the cost but figured my husband would enjoy the pretty flowers and he probably wouldn’t mind too much (although in writing this I realize he probably would). So I yes’ed my way through the phone interview and threw two very important men right under the bus. Mr G would have killed me for spending thousands of dollars a year on an annual garden, and Pedro would never be okay with another man tinkering in my garden, he gets irritated when I put in my own spring plantings.
The swank landscaper showed up and immediately looked annoyed. I have redwoods out front, and don’t I know that an English Garden requires sunlight? In the back I had something more loathsome, more appalling than redwoods. I have animals.
The interview didn’t go well. My garden and I were rejected, and we’ll have to be ordinary, non seasonal and covered in succulents, though I’ve recently discovered that Hostas love the space under the trees. At least Jane got what she wanted.