I have a love-hate relationship with a tree.
There, I said it.
It seems ridiculous to even describe my feelings that way.
However, I can easily articulate all the reasons why I feel the way I do.

Trees intrigue me.
They loom large around my house.
They conglomerate in the woods behind me, giving an air of mystery to my backyard.
The woods hide all sorts of animals that only come out at night.

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She used to live behind me.
I could see the gables of her white farmhouse through the woods.
She moved with her son and his family to another town, a bit further away.
I tease her that I want to be her when I grow up.

She has been coming to Bible study in my home for years.
She is still coming, even though she does not live behind me any more.
She drives herself.
Some may think that is an odd thing to say; however, this woman is 87 years old.

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I saw her little sneakers light up as she walked.
She was trying to follow her mommy.
It is hard to have little legs.
Little legs just do not seem to walk as fast as grownup legs.

I noticed her cute denim skirt.
It was hard not to notice since it was a twirly skirt.
She was making sure that her movements made her skirt twirl.
She was quite successful and it made her giggle.

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From time to time, I encouraged my children to go through their clothes.
We were constantly ridding out, as I called it.
It was an important thing to do.
Someone else could use the things that they outgrew.

Clothes got passed down, one to another, in our family.
Even with passing things down, there were still large giveaway piles.
Periodically, there would be large trash bags in the upstairs hall closet.
Inside the trash bags were neatly folded clothes.

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This has been a summer of rain.
I wish I had thought about drawing a raindrop on my calendar.
That would give me some idea of just how many days it actually rained here.
There were many days when my plants would not need to be watered.

At the end of my street, near a charming stone wall, there is a creek.
It is a narrow tributary of the Brandywine River.
The narrow creek runs along our neighbor’s property.
I tell him all the time that his landscaping makes me smile as I walk past.

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I smiled as I drove behind him.
I could see clear to the front of the car through the large back window.
What I saw was really not a car as much as something else.
It was truly a bedroom on wheels.

This was not a camper.
This was something that you would have expected duck tape to hold together.
This was well used.
This was well loved.

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Our trash pickup day is on Wednesday.
Our trash men and recycling men are very punctual.
Customers are encouraged to put their trash and recycling out the night before.
If you forget to put it out the night before, it is highly unlikely you will catch them in time.

I listened to a message was sent a few days before our scheduled pick up day.
Due to the Fourth of July holiday, your trash will not be picked up as scheduled.
Your rescheduled trash day will be Saturday, July 7.
Please make sure to put your trash and recycling out the night before to ensure pickup.

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Anyone with a front load washing machine knows what you have to do after a cycle.
Anyone with a front load washing machine knows what happens if you forget.
The smell will point you right to the problem.
The solution is quite simple.

Many years ago, we bought our first front load washing machine.
Gone were the days of waiting for the drum to fill with water.
Gone were the days of anything with a strap getting wrapped around the agitator.
Gone were the days of using too much water and not being energy efficient.

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I saw a tiny bird on my walk.
It was close to the side of the road.
I wondered if it had been injured.
I stopped and stooped down just a bit.

I saw its little eyes darting back and forth.
I saw its rapid breathing.
Hello, little one, I said as if it understood me.
The little eyes seemed to look in my direction, or maybe I just thought they did.

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She was with her grandmother.
We were in the room where the antique things are kept.
It was a day to drive to my favorite place.
It was a day to explore my favorite little shop.

The back of my minivan was filled with donations.
I emptied my car making a few trips inside the large area where donations are sorted.
The room was neat and organized.
Amish men in suspenders and straw hats usually do the sorting.

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