Behind the Lines: by David Heiller

David Heiller The list has been started, in my head at least. Jack-knife, binoculars, good book. Essential things for a five-day fishing trip. The Socks Matches, candle, plenty of socks. About four years ago, it rained so much that all my socks got wet. Cold feet. I was miserable. It was even worse when I had to watch the other three guys wearing warm socks and smug smiles. That was the trip I snuck a rock into Paul’s pack, which more than made up for my physical discomfort. He still promises to get me back. I wonder if he will this year? I wonder at things like that these days. My thoughts are drifting like a canoe toward our fishing trip, drifting like that canoe Dave forgot to pull onto a portage last year. It floated across the bay like a silver phantom, and Dave had to retrieve it using MY canoe. I’ve got pictures to prove it. I guess I had a smile that time. Maps, compass, flashlight. I’ll be working in the garden, and I’ll feel the wind coming from the northwes...

David Heiller One of the nice things about gardening is giving plants away and receiving plants in return. A friend, “Cynthia,” came over for supper a couple weeks ago. Before she came, she asked if we would like some physostegia. I think that’s how you spell it. Like most flowers, it also has a common name, “sensitive plant.” I thought it was mighty sensitive of Cynthia to ask, so I said yes. Never turn down a free plant, unless it’s creeping Charlie. More about that later. “Do you have any catnip?” I asked. Yes, this sensitive person replied, and she brought some of that along too. Both of them are growing in our garden now. After she left, I was mad at myself because I didn’t send any plants home with her. I meant to. But I will. Guys can be sensitive too. Another friend, whom I will call “Liz,” dropped off her daughter to stay with our daughter on Sunday. We sent Liz packing with some foxglove and hollyhocks. And the next day, when she came to pick up her daughter, Liz ...