Semi-Daily Scribbles

Phyllida kept a watchful eye on her charge. Not only was Reginald's boy a singular talent at the morning crossword, he spared her the horror of dandelions growing between her toes. Phyllida's star pupil made daily rounds with a spray bottle filled with dish soap and vinegar which burned the yellow tufted heads of the spreading menace. Her young man was very good at following orders, like making sure Reginald drank his mugwort every night before bed. Phyllida thought Reginald purposefully forgot the messages she sent. It took a few lessons, but she taught his son to brew a proper pot of tea. In the garden, Phyllida controlled what thrived and what faded into memory. But in the world of men, she needed more than sun and rain for her wisdom to take root.