We had a hell of a heatwave in May. It felt like the middle of August and everyday required diligent care to keep Spring in the garden. Global warming has taken hold here in Southern California, we had no winter and no rain. Our usual May grey, brought on by early morning fog to cool and dampen the valley, never happened until just today, nineteen days into May.
Of course grapes love heat. In fact if anything is going to survive global warming it will be the grapes. But they also need water, especially table grapes, and that could pose a problem, but for now we are enjoying watching the grapes get bigger by the day. Another benefit of grapes is to sit under the arbor and feel a light rain falling from the grape leaves. You can actually see the small little drops desend when the sun catches them just so.
It's a lovely shade sitting here beneath the grapes and by the fountain, listening to the water gurgle up and spill over. Watching our vegetable garden grow, the tomatoes, garlic, peppers and cucumbers, to name a few. It's one of the few pleasures Wally and I have left. I need a caretaker to help me with Wally and to share your privacy with a complete stranger, day after day, is one of the most stressful things I have to endure. This is our third caretaker. He is much better than the other two, but like all people, has flaws. One of the flaws is a girlfriend that comes for the weekend. He smokes marijuana like a California brush fire and so does she. From morning to night it is puff-puff on one gadget or another. He does care for Wally, but I have to make sure he does things right since he is stoned ALL the time. And the girlfriend? Lazy would be the best description. She sleeps in his room for most of the day and comes out to eat on occasion. She gave me a list of food she can tolerate. I took the list, walked to the trash can and put it in, saying, "If there is something served you can't eat, don't eat it." She needs to be reminded to pick up her plate after a meal. Her boyfriend, the caretaker, will pick up after her but I won't.
When you consider what we have had in the past as caretakers, a dope smoking heterosexual and his girlfriend are small potatoes. I never have to wake him from a drunk to help me with Wally in the morning. He is very tender with Wally and caring, and for that, I am grateful. It's just someone else here when it use to be me and Wally in our little world. Our little world to sit through the storms of life that swirled outside our home. But now it's us and people I would never associate with if it wasn't for Wally's dementia. It's hard to endure at times.
In the mornings, as early as I can rise, I have the garden to myself, without the reek of marijuana or tobacco. I have that sweet smell that comes from air filtered through a lush garden. The birds bathing, singing and foraging. Millie, our cat, to sit on my lap while I have a cup of coffee or tea and the morning paper. Without this little pleasure, I would go stark raving mad.
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