hibiscus

It's not often that I show you a picture of within one of our neighbour's houses, but this one is just too good. Donald (the one with his feet up) is a horticulturalist. He knocked on our door today, just as I was scraping off paint in the tiny hallway behind our front door. "International landscapers!" he shouted, and he had his spade with him, he was serious. He dug two holes in our front yard, and then he schlepped me to the pond in his back yard where he had some trees waiting for us. A gigantic Hibiscus, I forgot what it's called in English, and something else that blooms a lovely red and costs three hundred dollars if you buy it. I felt so bad, I couldn't even pay them back with some wine, all the stores are closed Victoria day. And on top of that they invited us over. So we brought Piffin's croissants (Piffin keeps perfecting her croissant recipe), and my meatloaf. And Gerald and Don got us drunk. Continuous wine from four till quarter to ten, that'll do it. Exchanging gossip all of these hours.