Diva Gardener, Week Four (And Counting)

We are coming up on a month since I last spoke to David, my peculiar groundsman/gardener/handyman-wannabe. Appearing miffed that I actually hired licensed and insured professionals to rebuild my front porch (instead of engaging him for some unspecified stopgap upgrade involving tongue and groove — lots of  tongue and groove), he proposed to fix one of the many spots of deterioration on the back porch instead. Clearly offended that I came to my senses at the last minute and told him I wasn’t going to start on that porch because who knew where we would end up, he began to lecture me about his qualifications. Doubtless pissed that I then hung up on him after three attempts to convey to him that I urgently had to get off the phone and, like, put on clothes before a client arrived at the door, he has not made contact since.

The note I left him suggesting alternate work disappeared, but without a response. A couple times he has slunk onto the property — the space under my back porch has been, by agreement, his satellite office for years, sheltering a lawn mower, assorted stakes and cages for vegetable gardening, and, most recently and curiously, a slowly degrading Ikea cabinet door, hardware still attached, with which he was gonna do somethin for some lady. We are into about Month Five with the door under there so the lady must not be in a hurry.

A week ago I tidied out the jumble of empty flowerpots and bone meal bags, leaving a reasonably neat couple of stacks with the dilapidated door on top.

Earlier this week he slithered around the back — I spotted him out the window as I was finished with a client — and almost immediately re-emerged to jump into his wife’s car and depart. I checked under the porch as soon as I could. Perched on the cabinet door were two or three folded brown-paper leaf bags, the kind you leave at the curb and they recycle it bag and all, and on top of that was a doubled plastic carrier bag full of dirt.

I don’t know why he brought dirt over. I have a yard full.

I’m too fascinated by the evolving story to feel any need to force a resolution. At least until the lawn needs mowing, which might not be till April.

It will probably get weirder. News as it happens.


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