Happy Rose Month from Editor Bob

How’s it going with you? Are you guys following the election stories at all? It’s really getting close! Fred and Irina can’t seem to stop talking about the last primary.

Politics aside, my mom and dad just celebrated their 33rd wedding anniversary. They’re really great together, and I feel like they’ve been together for ages. Spending Mother’s Day at home was perfect. I got to see them joking around and teasing each other. They still say the same stuff, the same way at the same time.

For me, that’s what home was all about–watching my mom and dad do silly coincidental things together. I mean, they’ve been together for so long that they do more than just complete each other’s thoughts or sentences. I just hope I find someone like that some day. They look so complete together. Even though I went home for Mother’s Day, having me around was a treat for my dad, too. If you missed my road trip home you can still check it out on my blog!

Talk about romance, remember the ultra romantic couple, Kate and Jeffrey? Well, the maestro Jeffrey can not only perform, as in play an instrument, but he can write, too! When I heard that, I said, “What, are you telling me he’s another writer?” Kate smiled, “No, silly, he’s not like you. He’s more romantic,” said Kate, starry-eyed. I looked at her with disbelief, “Like, what’s that supposed to mean?” Then Kate told me the whole story. I should’ve kept my mouth shut I tell you!

Apparently, Jeffrey wrote a poem for Kate. He wanted it to be the lyrics to a new song he’s composing. He wanted to dedicate it to Kate if he ever publishes an album. “Isn’t that sweet?” Kate asked me, fluttering her eye lashes. I looked at Rick for help and the man was on another planet! He was totally oblivious to what we were talking about. So I took a sip of whatever I was drinking and said, “Ya, Kate, that’s really sweet, I’m glad you guys are together.” Like what else am I supposed to tell her?

There are reasons why Rick was on another planet. He’s trying to quit smoking. For a guy who smokes like a chimney, New York is a tough town to hang out. He comes across the river just to be with his friends. And of course he enjoys my fabulous company! Right after our road trip, he decided to quit smoking. “What, are you joking me or are you really serious?” I asked Rick. He replied, “Do ya think I’m all hat and no cattle? (Texan translation: All talk, no action.) I’m serious about this, Bob. Gas is almost four bucks a gallon and smokes are over six bucks a pack. I mean, I gotta set some priorities, ya know.” If you ask me, I think he’s thinking more than just the gas prices. I wonder what he’s up to… and usually it’s no good!

So anyway, the other day when I saw him, he was still on his way to quit for good. But something must’ve happened between him and Kaitlin, because he lit up a cigarette. “What happened to the hat and cattle business?” I asked him. “Oh, shucks Bob, give me a freakn’ break now. I just came back from a row with Kaitlin,” he said chewing something in his mouth. He was unusually jittery, too. “Um, Rick, what are you chewing?” I asked him. “It’s one of ’em tobacco gums for mah quittin’,” Rick replied. I asked, “Are you overdosing on nicotine? You look really jittery.” Then he noticed that he was jittery. “Awe man, I’m going to DIE!” Good old Rick, why does he always come to me when he’s in trouble? He threw out his gum and dropped the cigarette. I hailed a cab to go to the nearest emergency room.

We had to wait for what felt like FOREVER! In the meantime, I was hoping and praying that this guy doesn’t die on me. I’ve never heard of anyone dying from a nicotine overdose but this is Rick we’re talking about. He was flailing like a fish in the chair, clutching his stomach and acting like he was about to croak. I can understand why the ladies always call us babies when we get sick. I was a bit over him at this point, too.

FINALLY, we got to see a doctor. We told her what the matter was and she said not to worry about it. She did tell him to NEVER, EVER do it again because it can lead to all sorts of problems, including seizures and even death. The doc said, “At least you realized there was a problem. If you’re not ready to quit don’t go on the gum. If you’re ready to quit, and you’ve made a decision, don’t smoke. The gum is supposed to help you lower your dependency on nicotine. It’s still supplying you with nicotine but helping you break the habit of smoking.” Then she turned around to me and told me to help him quit. Like, why am I involved again? She said having a support system to those who are trying to quit is crucial. I told her I’d help him out. She gave us a bunch of pamphlets and kicked us out of the emergency room. Hey at least he’s still alive!

Mrs. Bradley’s really loving this Spring! Her flowers are blooming in her garden and they are gorgeous! I think her roses are the best. Well, that’s one flower that I can recognize anyway. She takes a particular interest in breeding new hybrid roses, so she’s really looking forward to June because it’s Rose Month. Earlier this week, I helped her clean out all the debris in her garden and moved heavy stuff for her. Afterward, she asked me to come shopping with her so I could carry all her bags back. In exchange, she said she’d feed me. I’m a sucker for a good home cooked meal, so I agreed.

Now, Mrs. Bradley has been the nicest neighbor and I enjoy helping her out. She’s sort of like my East Coast mom. We picked up her dry cleaning, handled all her errands, then we stopped by a deli way out of our way to pick up stuff for lunch and to talk with the butcher about his roses. Apparently he’s quite the expert on tea roses. Mrs. Bradley rambled on about grafting, and the importance of prudent pruning, yada, yada, yada, and I started to drift off.

One of the reasons Mrs. Bradley goes to this deli is because Frank, the butcher, gives her really good deals. “He’s always giving me a little extra with my orders. He’s a very nice man.” I watched him with other customers and he wasn’t nearly as generous with anyone else. He quickly bundled their packages up all the while still talking with her. His eyes lit up when she gushed about his tea roses being the best in the city. He tucked her packages nice and neatly, and gave her a special cheese to try later. Hmmm. I think Frank the butcher might be a little sweet on Mrs. Bradley. I certainly got that idea from the way he was talking to her.

When we left the store, my stomach was growling, but I had to ask her about it. I asked, “Mrs. Bradley, it’s none of my business but don’t you think Frank was paying a little bit more attention to ya?” “Who? Frank? Ya, he’s a very nice gentleman. It’s very hard to find a man like that these days. He’s kind, like you, Bob,” she replied absent-mindedly. “No, I meant, he really pays extra attention to you… beyond you being his favorite customer,” I clarified. “What do you…” Mrs. Bradley trailed off and came back, “I see what you mean, Bob, but I don’t think so. I mean… no, no, I’m too old for that sort of thing.” We left it at that. I didn’t want to pry and we didn’t talk about it at lunch but I’m sure she was thinking about what I said. I think I’ll accompany her again next time, just to see if my suspicions are correct.

Thinking about Mrs. Bradley’s garden and Frank’s roses reminds me of a line in a song by Bette Midler, “Just remember, during the winter, far beneath the bitter snow, that there’s a seed that with the sun’s love in the spring becomes a rose.” That’s all for this week folks!