One morning last week, I woke up with some thoughts barking in my brain, running around in circles, begging to be unleashed. So I sat down at my computer and dashed out the following on Facebook:
It’s almost April, Lowcountry folks. And we all know what that means.
Spring breakers descend like sand gnats during a dead ocean breeze. Azaleas pop, sizzle and drop while the dogwood blooms slowly open as an offering for lingering warmth and alfresco dining over glasses filled with chilled chardonnay peppered in drowned mosquito wings.
Did you read about The Man Who Knew Too Little? Otherwise known as The Most Ignorant Man in America? Both titles were assigned to one Erik Hagerman by the New York Times in an article I ran across on Facebook last week.
And boy, were my Facebook friends mad at this guy.
I tend to be an accidental gardener. If anything grows in my yard, it’s by pure serendipity. Somebody planted azaleas and camellias decades ago . . . Wisteria appears magically every year . . . A jack-o-lantern carved out back one fall becomes a small pumpkin patch the next summer . . . That sort of thing.