“Okay, everyone! Listen up!” I was in the kitchen facing away from my son Alex and husband Steven. “I’m headed back to school tomorrow so there’s going to be some rules that are going to be put back into place.” I was cleaning out my work bag. “I wished I’d done this when school ended in June.” I grumbled to myself as I threw some papers into the trash that I no longer needed and turned around.

Alex and Steven were looking at one another. “Which rules are you talking about?” Alex asked.

“Well, first of all if you hear me in the kitchen in the morning I’m not making everyone’s breakfast. That ship has sailed.” Now that I’d taken everything out of my bag I turned it upside down to shake it over the garbage pail. “What you’ll be hearing is me making my tea and maybe a piece of toast.” I looked over at them. “You guys are going to have to make your own breakfast.”

Alex shrugged his shoulders. “I usually make my own breakfast before you get up anyway. The breakfast you make us is actually my second breakfast.”

Steven shook his head. “I don’t eat breakfast.” He smiled at me. “Except when you make it for us, of course.”

“Okay, so that’s not going to be a problem.” I put my bag on the counter-top. “Next one. No one uses the washer and dryer on the weekend. That’s when I catch up with all the laundry and I can’t have you two messing that up.”

Alex looked over at Steven. “That’s not a problem for me.”

Steven shook his head again. “No problem.”

I nodded my head. “Okay, this is going well.” I took a pad out of the drawer along with a pen. “Grocery shopping is only happening on the weekends again. No more running to the store because we forgot to put something on the list.”

Steven looked confused. “If it’s that important I’ll just run to the store myself.”

“Good plan!” I looked over at Alex.

Alex pointed his thumb towards Steven. “What he said.”

“I’m liking the team spirit here!” I leaned back against the counter. “I finish my cup of tea and I’m ready to get in the shower every morning at exactly seven A.M.” I looked over at Steven who held up his hands.

“I know. We’ve been doing this for years. I don’t understand why you’re telling us this?” He asked.

“Because we’ve all become lax these past few months and I don’t want to start the school year off on the wrong foot.” I could feel the panic welling up inside me.

“We’ve got you covered.” Steven came over and gave me a hug. “You don’t need to stress.”

“Yeah.” Alex said. “You’re getting yourself all worked up for no reason.”

I took a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right. The first few weeks of school can be so stressful. I guess I’m just over-reacting.”

“It’s going to be fine.” Alex patted me on the shoulder.

“You guys are right.” I took another deep breath. “I’m stressing myself out for no reason.” I grabbed my work bag off the counter and looked at both of them. “You guys are great.”

Steven smiled again. “So what’s for dinner?” He asked.

“I’ve been so busy getting myself ready for tomorrow I didn’t have time to cook anything.” I headed for our bedroom to pick out my outfit for the next day. “We’re going to order out.” I called over my shoulder.

“Pretty sure we’ll be hearing that one a lot for the next ten months.” I heard Steven say to Alex.

“What?” I asked, pretending I hadn’t heard him.

“Nothing!” He called back. “Just getting the take-out menus from the drawer.”

My son Alex and I were at a farmer’s market picking up fresh fruits and vegetables for our Labor Day barbecue.

I looked in my cart. “Okay, we have a half a dozen ears of corn, some strawberries, blueberries, and…” I tried to remember what else we had said we were going to pick up.

“Didn’t you say you wanted some watermelon, too?” Alex said as he placed some apples in the cart.

“Oh, yeah! I can’t believe I forgot that.” I steered the cart over to a huge bin that was filled with watermelons. Several people were standing around it with watermelons cradled in one arm while they either knocked on the outside of the fruit or patted it with their hand trying to find the perfect one.

“It’s more crowded around this bin than the group standing around husking ears of corn!” I complained.

“Everyone’s just trying to get ready for their own barbecues.” Alex reasoned as he tried to get closer to the bin. “Which one looks good to you?” He asked over his shoulder.

“Well…” I waited for a spot to clear for me to step closer. “I was reading an article that said the best way to find the perfect watermelon is to look at the light and dark green lines and find the one with wider light green lines.” I picked up one of the melons. “Wow! This one is heavy!” I put it down and picked up another one about the same size. “Nope. The first one was heavier.” I put it down and picked up the first one again. “They also said that weight is important.”

I turned it over so that I could see the golden colored circle. “I’m also suppose to see a golden color, not white. That golden color means it hasn’t been moved from its spot on the ground and was able to fully ripen.”

“Aright.” He was looking at all the other shoppers knocking on their watermelons. “But aren’t you also suppose to do that?”

I leaned over to get closer to him. “The article said you really can’t tell that way.” I whispered.

Alex nodded. “Well, if you read an article and that’s what it told you to do then who am I to argue?” He started to laugh as he took the watermelon out of my hands and placed it in the cart.

“Hey!” I laughed as I started to push the cart to the check out line. “The article was written by an owner of a watermelon farm! I’m pretty sure he knows what he’s talking about!”

“We’ll see.” Alex said as we reached the check out line and he placed our items on the conveyor belt.

Once we got home and put away all our groceries I took the watermelon over to the sink to give it a quick wash. “Okay.” I said as I placed it on the cutting board and wiped it dry with paper towels. “Let’s cut this baby open and see what we have!”

I sliced it in half and looked at the ruby red flesh. “It’s looking good!” I said as I cut away the rind and began cubing the piece into a bowl. I popped a small piece in my mouth. “Oh, my gosh! That’s so good!”

I looked over at Alex. “Do you want to try a piece?”

“Sure.” He got a fork out of the drawer and stabbed one of the pieces from the bowl. After a few chews he nodded his head. “It’s good.” He agreed.

“What do you mean it’s good?” I said as I got the plastic wrap from the drawer and cut off a piece to cover the bowl filled with watermelon. “That’s the best tasting watermelon I’ve ever had and it’s not even chilled yet!”

Alex shrugged his shoulders. “We’ve had good watermelons before.”

“Well, that was just luck.” I said as I put the bowl in the refrigerator. “But now I know how to pick one out without having to embarrass myself playing bongos, knocking on it with everyone else standing around the bin.”

“What do you mean, embarrass yourself?”

“I had no idea what I was suppose to be hearing when I was knocking on the outside of the melon.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I’d just knock, put it in my cart, and hope for the best.”

Alex patted me on the shoulder and kissed the side of my head. “I’m glad you found the secret to a perfect watermelon.” He said as he headed for his room.

“This is going to be the best Labor Day barbecue ever!” I called after him.

“It always is.” He called back.

I was sitting at the dining room table writing some note cards when my son Alex walked in the room.

“What are you up to today?” He asked as he stopped next to me and gave me a kiss on the top of my head.

“Well, after I finish writing this thank you note I was thinking about making myself a cup of tea and sitting out on the back porch for a little bit.”

“Thank you note?” Alex called over his shoulder as he went into the kitchen. I could hear the water running at the sink. “When did you start writing thank you notes?”

“I used to write them all the time!” I had just finished signing my name. “Your Dad even had monogrammed embossed note cards made for me because I wrote so many of them!” I shrugged my shoulders. “But then email and text were invented and it was just easier to do that.” I sighed. “But the other day I got a note from my girlfriend Kathy and realized she’d never given up on the art of a hand written note.” I flipped through my address book. “It just struck me that the time and effort that goes into writing the note, addressing an envelope, putting a stamp on it, and placing it in the mailbox just means so much more than an email or text.” I found the address I was looking for and began writing it down. “That’s when I decided I needed to go back to writing personal thank you notes when someone does something nice for me.” I slipped the note into the envelope and licked the envelope closed. “Now I just need a stamp and I’m all set.”

I was getting up to go find a stamp when Alex came out of the kitchen holding a mug in each hand. He held one out to me. I could see the steam rising from it. “I made you a cup of tea.” He said as he placed it on the table.

“Really?” I couldn’t help but smile. “You made that for me?”

“Hey, you said when you were done writing your thank you note that you wanted to have a cup of tea out on the porch.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I was making myself coffee so I just thought why not make you your tea?”

“Oh, my gosh,” I put the note down on the table and picked up the tea. “That’s so sweet of you. Do you want to come sit with me out on the porch?”

“Sure.” He pointed to the envelope. “Don’t you want to get a stamp on that first?”

“I’ll do it after this.” I held up my tea as I headed for the back door.

I opened the door for him. “That was so nice of you to do.” I gushed as I followed him out the door.

“Are you going to be writing me a thank you note?” Alex laughed as he sat down in the Adirondack chair.

I sat in my rocking chair and started to laugh. “Wait.” I stopped laughing. “That’s really not such a bad idea.”

Alex held up his hand as he shook his head. “I wasn’t being serious. You don’t have to write me a thank you note.”

“I’m not saying an actual thank you note.” I sat back in my chair and took a sip of tea, “But maybe you, Dad, and I could keep a list of all the nice things we do for each other during the day, have it hanging on the refrigerator, and we’ll all feel more appreciated.”

Alex thought about it for a moment then looked over at me and smiled. “You’re thinking your list would be the longest aren’t you?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I really hadn’t given it that much thought.” I tried to stifle a laugh as I went to take another sip.

It was first thing in the morning and I was sitting on my sister Liz’s screened porch sipping a cup of tea. I was watching the birds, bees, and butterflies flitting from feeder to shrubs to trees and back to the feeder again.

Liz came out on the porch with her coffee. “How’d you sleep?” she asked.

“Pretty good. How about you?”

“Good.” She sat down in the chair next to me and put her feet up on the ottoman.

“I’ve been watching this for a while.” I pointed to her feeder. “I’ve never seen such a polite group of wildlife before. Is this what they mean when they say southern hospitality?”

Liz looked over to where I was pointing with a confused look on her face. “What do you mean?”

“Your birds aren’t trying to push past each other to get to the birdseed.” I pointed to the bushes out front where two butterflies and several bees harmoniously worked next to each other as they gathered nectar. “It’s like I’m watching a Disney movie.” I pointed to the corner of her house. “I’m waiting for Snow White to walk out singing while holding her finger up so the birds can land on it and start chirping in unison with her singing!”

Liz started to laugh as she took a sip of her coffee. “A Disney movie, huh?”

“I’m serious!” I laughed. “When I’m sitting out on my deck in New Jersey it’s like watching a scene from West Side Story! The mourning doves and house finches are the Jets and the blue jays and squirrels are the Sharks! Everyone is fighting to get to the birdseed first! Seeds are flying everywhere and while the poor mourning doves are trying to gather up anything tossed to the ground the chipmunks are pushing past them to get to it first!”

Liz looked back at her garden. “They do seem to get along don’t they?”

“Get along?” I pointed to her birdbath where two little finches were taking turns taking a dip. “We were having a heat wave last week and I had a squirrel just laying in my birdbath while the birds tried to attack him hoping he’d move out of the way!” I shook my head and sighed. “The squirrel won that one.”

“Well, the poor squirrel was just trying to cool off.” Liz countered.

“Hey, who’s side are you on?”

Liz started to laugh again. “I’m not on anyone’s side!”

I looked around her garden again. “You know, come to think of it I haven’t seen any squirrels around here.”

Liz shook her head. “I don’t get squirrels.”

I looked over at her genuinely surprised. “You don’t have squirrels around here?”

“No, we have squirrels in North Carolina. But I don’t get them in my yard.” She looked around her property. “I think it’s because I don’t have any tall tree around for them to make their nests in.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky.” I sighed. “My back yard is all woods so the squirrels just LOVE my property!”

“Hey, you’re here now so enjoy the Disney scene while you can.”

I sat back listening to the low hum of the ceiling fan above us and watched as two goldfinches landed side by side to get a snack from her feeder. “Southern hospitality at its best!” I said before taking another sip of my tea.

I was visiting my sister Liz in North Carolina and we were on her back patio tending her plants. I was deadheading some flowers while she was filling her watering can. I had just clipped a faded flower from her geranium plant when I noticed a hummingbird whiz by my head.

I looked around her patio. “Where’s your hummingbird feeder?”

Liz had just started giving a big drink to her hibiscus plant. “It’s over there.” She said pointing behind her.

I looked past her bird bath but didn’t see any feeder. “Where?” I asked again.

She pointed to a large bush with purple flowers on it.

“The salvia plant.” She said.

The hummingbird was buzzing from flower to flower on the large, lush plant.

“I knew they liked the color red but I didn’t know they were attracted to the color purple, too.”

“They really love that plant.” Liz answered as she moved over to her lavender plants to give them a drink.

I watched as a swallowtail butterfly floated by her grill. “Hey, do you ever use that?” I pointed to her covered grill.

Liz looked over to see what I was pointing to. “Nope.”

“Really?” I was surprised. “When your friend Rita and I visited you a few years back, Rita talked you into buying it. She said it would change your life.”

Liz shook her head and sighed. “Well, it didn’t.”

“Well, I know it changed mine!” I’d moved over to her bird bath to see if the base needed adjustment.

“What do you mean?” She put her watering can down and went into her screened porch and sat down.

I followed her with a handful of deadheaded flowers that I set on the side table before sitting down myself. “Steven and I hadn’t used a barbecue grill in years but after Rita cooked those steaks on your grill I was hooked. I talked Steven into buying a small grill when I got home from that trip and we’ve been grilling ever since!”

I took my phone from the side table and scrolled through my texts. “We used that grill so much that we wore it out!” I held up my phone to show her a picture of a grill that Steven had just sent me. “He just got the new grill delivered today!”

Liz took my phone and looked at the picture. “Nice.” She handed the phone back to me. “So when Rita said it was going to be life changing…”

I laughed as I took the phone from her. “I guess she meant for me!”

A slight breeze stirred and her metal wind chimes began to make a deep trilling sound. I looked up from my seat to where her wind chimes were hanging. “I love that sound.” I sighed.

“So why don’t you get some?” Liz sat back and put her feet up on the ottoman.

“All my guys hate the sound of wind chimes.” I sighed and pointed to her salvia plant. “I have a better chance of buying one of those before anyone at my house agrees to get those.” I then pointed up to the chimes above me.

Liz shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it?”

“Do what?” I leaned back against the cushion to get comfortable.

“Everything’s a group decision at your house.”

“Yeah.” I sighed. “But,” I held my pointer finger up. “I’ve also got someone grilling for me now at my house so if that means wind chimes are on the back burner…” I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m good with that.” I picked up my phone and began to text. “But right now let me send Steven a picture of a salvia plant and see where he wants to plant ours!”

We were in the middle of eating dinner when my son Alex asked, “Can you please pass the mashed potatoes?”

The bowl was sitting next to me so I picked it up and handed it to him. While my arm was outstretched my husband Steven looked over at me with a concerned look on his face.

“When did you get that?” He was pointing to the inner part of my upper arm.

I looked down at the raised red welt. “Oh, I was taking a cookie sheet out of the oven and I accidentally hit my arm.”

Alex looked concerned. “Does it hurt?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “A little.”

“Did you put anything on it?” Steven asked.

“I will after dinner.” I shrugged my shoulders again. “If I remember.” I looked at my forearm and pointed to several fading burn marks. “I usually like to burn myself here.” I looked back at the raised burn on the upper arm. “I guess I found a new spot.” I laughed.

“You better remember to put something on it or you’re going to scar.” Alex warned me as he took a spoonful of mashed potatoes and put it on his plate before handing me back the bowl.

“Hey, scars tell stories.” I placed the bowl back in its original spot.

Alex pointed to the quarter sized raised scar on his wrist. “This one says I fell off my skateboard and got a nasty road rash.”

I looked at it and winced. “That had to hurt.”

Alex nodded. “It did.” He took a forkful of mashed potatoes and the last piece of meatloaf on his plate to eat them together.

“Remember what you told me about the scar on your rib cage?” I asked Steven.

Steven laughed. “It’s not really a scar it’s a birth mark.”

I turned to look at Alex and pointed my finger to my right side. “It’s right here and about the size of a nickle.” I looked back at Steven. “We were still dating when I saw it and I asked you how you got it…”

Steven laughed again. “I told her it was from a gun shot.”

Alex started to laugh.

“Seriously!” I cried. “I believed him!” I was shaking my head. “It scared me so much that I was thinking about ending the relationship right then and there.”

“Really?” Alex said.

“I certainly didn’t want to date someone who’d been in a gun fight!”

Steven stabbed a green bean with his fork. “When I saw the look on her face I had to let her know it was only a birth mark.”

I looked at Alex and raised my eyebrows. “So, if I’d believed the gun shot story you wouldn’t be here.”

Alex looked at Steven. “So it really is a birth mark?”

“Hey, she married me didn’t she? So that’s the story I’m sticking to.” He took the green bean off his fork and popped it in his mouth before getting up to clear his plate.

“Wait…” I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly. “What did you just say?”

“Anyone want to play Backgammon?” Steven called over his shoulder.

Alex got up to clear his plate and started to laugh when he saw the shocked look on my face. “His stories still get you every time.”

I had just pulled the pan of chicken parmesan out of the oven and had placed it on top of the stove when my son Alex came into the kitchen.

“About how long until dinner?” he asked.

“I’m going to say about fifteen minutes.”

Alex looked around the kitchen. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Actually there is.” I reached over and grabbed the basket that was sitting on the counter-top and held it out to him. “Can you get some tomatoes and basil from the garden? I want to make a Caprese salad to go with the chicken parm.”

Alex took a step back. “I’ll go get the tomatoes and basil but I’m not using your basket.” He went over to the cabinet and took out a bowl.

“What?” I was confused as I stood there with the basket still in my hand. “But I bought this basket specifically for the garden.”

“You can use a basket but I’m sticking with a bowl.”

“Are you serious?” I shook my head as I placed the basket back on the counter-top. “It’s not like I’m asking you to have the basket draped on your arm and skip out to the garden.”

Alex went over to the drawer that we kept the scissors and took them out. “Well, that’s how I see it in my head when you try to hand me a basket.” He laughed as he headed out the back door.

I was whistling while I put the pasta in the boiling water when Alex came back in. “Are these enough?” He asked as he held out the bowl.

“Perfect!” I gave the pasta a quick stir and took the bowl from him and began whistling again.

“What’s that song you’re whistling?” He asked.

I took the bowl from him and went over to the sink to rinse them off. “It’s an Ella Fitzgerald song: A-tisket, a-tasket a brown and yellow basket. I sent a letter to my Mommy and on my way I lost it…”

“Wait.” Alex shook his head. “They wrote a whole song about someone losing a basket?”

I looked over at him and nodded. “It was actually a breakthrough hit for her.”

Alex laughed still shaking his head. “What a weird thing to write a song about.”

“Hey, it was a simpler time back then.” I went to the refrigerator to get the mozzarella. “In all honesty I’d rather be singing a song about losing a basket then singing some of the stuff they write about today.”

“True.” Alex shrugged his shoulders as he went into the cabinet to get the plates for the dinner table. “Are we eating inside or out?”

“Let’s eat outside! It’s so beautiful out!” I got the knives and forks out of the drawer, grabbed some napkins and put them in the basket. “Here.” I held the basket out to him. “You can use this to make it easier.”

Alex laughed as he shook his head. “Still not using your basket.” He said as he reached in and scooped out the silverware and napkins and placed them on top of the plates before heading for the back door.

“Hey.” I called as I put the basket back on the counter. “You can’t fault me for trying!”

“Hey, Alex!” I called out to my son. “Do you use insect repellent?”

Alex came into the living room where I was scrolling on my phone. “I spray my sneakers when I’m going out in the woods for a walk.”

“But you don’t spray it on your skin do you?”

Alex looked confused. “I don’t think you’re supposed to spray it on your skin.”

“When I was a kid we used to spray it all over our skin.” I laughed as I shook my head. “You know, to protect us from bug bites.”

I held up my phone for him to see the video I’d just watched. “I just watched someone spray our brand of bug repellent on some weeds and they were dead in less than a day.”

Alex shook his head. “You know you can’t believe everything you see on the internet.”

“I know.” I got up from the couch. “But this one I can prove to myself.” I looked over at Alex. “Where do you keep the can of repellent?”

Alex pointed to the hallway closet. “It’s in there on the bottom shelf.”

I went to the closet and grabbed the green and orange can of repellent and turned it over to read the directions. “Nope.” I pointed to the directions on the can. “It says you can spray it on skin.” I began shaking my head. “They don’t want you spraying it directly on children.” I laughed as I read the directions out loud. “When using on children, apply to your own hands and then put it on the child. Spread evenly with hands to moisten all exposed skin.” I looked at Alex raising my eyebrows. “That sounds safe.” I laughed.

“You don’t know if it actually kills weeds, too.” He reminded me.

“You’re right.” I headed for the front door. “There’s some weeds in the driveway that I’ve been meaning to pull up.” I began shaking the can. “Let’s see what this does to them.”

Halfway down the driveway we came to a little clump of weeds that had managed to grow up between the Belgium block.

“Okay, my little weed friends. Thanks for being a part of my experiment.” I lightly sprayed the weeds and stepped back. “So, I sprayed them with as much as I would have used to spray on myself.”

I looked at the slightly moistened weeds and then to Alex. “What do you say? We give it a day and check back?”

Alex shrugged his shoulders. “I guess.”

We walked back into the house and I went to wash my hands. “I’m actually hoping the video is wrong.” I called over my shoulder.

A few hours later, Alex and I were headed out for a walk when I stopped halfway down the driveway.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I cried.

Alex and I were looking at where the green weeds had been just a few hours ago and were now shriveled up and dead.

“How does this stuff get approved to be used on people when it does this to plants?” I cried.

Alex shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe they think the diseases you can get from bug bites are worse than the stuff you spray on yourself to keep them away?”

“Well, now that I see this,” I pointed to the dead weeds. “I’m going to be doing some serious research on natural bug repellents.” I hoped he could hear the conviction in my voice as we started walking again.

Alex looked over at me. “So what you’re actually saying is that now you’re giving yourself the perfect excuse to spend hours scrolling on your phone?”

“Doing research!” I countered.

He raised his eyebrows. “And stopping to watch the occasional funny cat video?”

I had to sigh. “Okay. Maybe that too.”

I was sitting on the back porch reading when my son Alex came out and pointed towards the woods. “The chipmunk feeder is working out great.” He said with a laugh.

“What?” I looked up from my book and sure enough there was a chipmunk sitting on the ledge of my new bird feeder. “Oh, come on!” I cried as I turned my book upside down on the table next to me and stood up. “I bought that feeder specifically because they said it was squirrel proof!”

“Well, in their defense they didn’t say it was chipmunk proof.” Alex corrected me.

We watched as some house finches tried to land on the feeder only to be chased off by the chipmunk within seconds.

“Can’t you at least share the feeder?” I yelled out to him.

“I’m guessing he’s not in a sharing mood right now.” Alex said.

We watched as the chipmunk jumped from the feeder onto the Shepherds hook the bird feeder was hanging from, sliding down the pole like a fireman headed for the trucks.

Before he hit the ground he jumped off the pole and landed on a rock that bordered our path to the shed. He quickly looked around, his cheeks stuffed with bird seed, before hopping from rock to rock until he got to our fire pit. He jumped up on the ledge and stopped to looked around again. When he was satisfied that the coast was clear he jumped up the steps of our deck hopping up on the arm of an Adirondack chair and began adjusting the seeds in his mouth.

“Got enough?” I asked him.

My voice made him look up and when he saw Alex and I he jumped from the arm of the chair through the rungs of the deck and landed on the back of another chair.

“Well, that was impressive.” I looked over at Alex. “He looked like he was flying and totally stuck the landing!”

Alex nodded in agreement. “He certainly has some awesome parkour skills.”

We looked over the railing and watched the chipmunk quickly scamper across our patio, taking one last look around before diving into the entrance of his burrow that he’d dug under our downspout.

I looked back at the half empty bird feeder that the two house finches were finally getting a chance to use.

“I guess I should fill the feeder.” I sighed as I went to get the container of bird seed.

“Really?” Alex looked confused. “You know the chipmunk is going to be back up there emptying it out again.”

“I know.” I picked up the bird seed container that we kept in the corner of the deck. “But you have to admit he was kind of fun to watch.”

As I walked down the steps headed for the feeder the two house finches, who had been busy filling up while the chipmunk was away, flew into a nearby tree.

“I know you two want to try the newest feeder but I think you might be better off using the old feeders for now.” I pointed to the two feeders that were squirrel and chipmunk proof next to the bird bath.

“I’m not sure they can understand you.” Alex called from the porch and began laughing.

“You never know.” I said as I took down the feeder and began filling it with seeds looking over at the two house finches that were watching me. “You just never know.”