The Soupster is Inspired by Spring.
Jan’s cell phone beeped. A message from the Soupster. “Just got home. Was that your out there would have been a beach on a table?” it said.
“What the heck?” Jan frowned and picked up her garden hose. Immediately, the phone rang – the Soupster again.
“Sorry – my phone makes up its own thing sometimes. I meant: ‘Is that you out there watering a bedside table?’”
“Sure is,” Jan replied, reaching under the shelf to peel off a soggy Bangkok city map.
“I know it’s been unusually sunny weather an’ all but aren’t you taking spring fever a little far?” the Soupster asked.
“Ha ha” Jan replied. “Doing some spring cleaning…decided to sand my bedside table and give it a new ‘shabby chic’ look. Figured spraying it was the best way to get the sawdust off.”
“What? You took a piece of furniture with a perfectly good paint job and wrecked it?”
“Get with the times, Soupster. It’s not wrecked, it’s ‘fashionably weathered.’ Not everyone likes furniture made out of wooden palettes and ammo crates. By the way, what were you doing sweeping your face over the seedlings in your garden planter yesterday? Nearly crashed my bike trying to figure out what was going on.”
“Aaahh… Yes. Singing chromatic scales to my seedlings. Exhaling carbon dioxide on them is like feeding them a Thanksgiving meal; the vibrations of my voice energize them at a cellular level. Should help them grow faster.”
“O-kaaaay….oh, and hey, I read on Facebook last night that microwaved water has been proven not to kill plants.”
“Interesting. Must remember that. Need all the help I can get when it comes to gardening” the Soupster admitted.
“For one thing,” he said, “I’ve given up trying to start my own seeds. Last year, I tried to give my flower seeds a head start by sprouting them in a moist paper towel on the windowsill. They did sprout but I couldn’t get them off the paper towel so I ripped it apart and planted the bits. Unfortunately, only a few plants made it out of the soil and they spent the rest of the summer struggling to become anything more than two small leaves at the end of a stalk. These days I go for seedlings. I say let someone else get them through the Neonatal ICU stage.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Soupster. This is Alaska. I figure if we manage to grow anything at all, that’s a bonus, given the challenging weather conditions.
“True,” the Soupster agreed.
“Sorry, gotta go. Need to get this bedside table into the sun so it can dry. Bye…”
Right away her phone beeped a message. “Sudden dry in the same sentence music Tim I hears,” it said.
The Soupster called again. “Sorry, that was supposed to be; ‘Sun and dry in the same sentence – music to my ears.’ Yeah, I gotta go too. Time to sing a few octaves.”
Submitted by Lois Verbaan Denherder
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