So, Darling Ones,

Do you remember back in January when I became a Tree Influencer? Me neither. January was eighty-six years ago and my memory isn’t as a sharp as it used to be.

This is why I was startled when the young mail carrier knocked on my door today and when I opened it* she thrust a weird bag into my hand.

“It says live trees on it and I didn’t want to leave it on the door step,” she said nervously.
“Thank you!” I said. “I appreciate that.”

The weird bag contained my thank you gift for donating to the Arbor Day Foundation, which I had forgotten about. Inside were a bundle of baby spruce trees and two twigs that are allegedly going to grow up to be lilac bushes. I’m not sure what I was thinking back in January. I live in a place with a yard the size of a postage stamp that I’m not technically allowed to do stuff to. What the fuck am I gonna do with a bunch of spruce trees?

Here’s what I did with them: gave them to my nature-loving, conservation-minded nephew. They’re his problem now.

I kept the lilac twigs. Obviously. Lilac bushes make up at least 30% of the ultimate dream. Even though every thing I googled was all, it is not recommended to grow lilacs in containers. I did not listen to them. Instead, I spent $60 at Target on dirt and the biggest planters they had. Now my patio is home to two lilac twigs that will turn into beautiful blooming bushes through the strength of my love and the sheer force of my desire, god willing and the creek don’t rise. I’m pretty sure this is how gardening works.

All I need is a handsome man who is attracted to me willing to roleplay as the cowboy of my dreams and I’m like 75% to the ultimate dream.

Now accepting applications,
Jodi

 
*Again, I was wearing a shirt without sleeves. The mail girl did not die. Neither did my nephew who came over to help me with a bunch of pre-sister invasion household chores.