“I don’t know.” I mumbled. “I kind of like it this way.”

My husband Steven and I were standing on our back porch looking at my rocking chair. “Are you kidding me?” he asked. “The paint’s peeling off. It looks awful!”

There was a crew of painters at our house to sand and stain our porch and Steven wanted to take the opportunity to have them sand, prime and repaint my rocking chair.

“I think it’s got a shabby chic kind of vibe going.”

“No it doesn’t.” Steven was shaking his head. “If you keep it this way, it’s going to end up with wood rot.” He looked over at me raising his eyebrows. “Is that what you want?”

The painters were busy taking the furniture off the porch and placing it in the yard.

“Well, of course not!” I cried. “I’ve had this rocking chair since before we were married!”

“I know.” Steven laughed. “It came with your dowry.”

I swatted his arm and laughed. “What are you from the 1800’s?”

I looked back at my beat up rocking chair and began to get nostalgic. “This rocking chair and I have seen a lot of love over the years.” I looked over at Steven. “Every night I rocked both boys to sleep in this chair. When they weren’t feeling good this is where we sat.”

Steven nodded his head.

“Then the boys grew up and we built the porch on the Riverside house and that’s when it became an outside rocker.” I looked over at Steven again. “That’s also when it got this coat of hunter green paint. Which, by the way I painted myself.” I looked back at the rocker. “And you know how much I hate to paint. So to me it looks well loved like this.”

“See, that’s where you and I see things differently.” Steven explained. “I see it needing a coat of paint…”

“While I see it as well loved.” I interrupted.

“You didn’t let me finish.” Steven said as he held up his pointer finger. “I’m just trying to protect the wood so you don’t lose it.”

“I know.” I sighed.

Steven looked at the painters as they were finishing clearing off the porch. “Okay, it’s time to make up your mind.” Steven said. “You’re either going to let them paint it now or your going to wait a few weeks, realize I was right, that it does need to be painted, and you’ll be painting it yourself.”

“Okay, you make a good point.” I took out my phone and stepped back to snap a picture.

Steven shook his head and laughed. “Why are you taking a picture?”

I put the phone back in my pocket. “Because I always want to remember the shabby chic well loved look it once had.” I patted my pocket with the phone. “This will help.”

Steven picked up the rocker and carried it off the porch. “Most people would be thrilled to get a new coat of paint on something.” He called over his shoulder.

“I’m not like most people.” I called back.

Luckily he was too far away for me to hear his response.

I was looking out my back door and noticed a hummingbird circling the two hummingbird feeders I had attached to the porch. He would dart in, but quickly back away, then move on to the other feeder doing the exact same thing before speeding off around the house.

“I wonder why he didn’t take a drink?” I said to myself as I opened the back door and went out to check the feeders.

I moved in closely and could see all the sugar water was missing. “I just filled both of these yesterday!” I cried as I took the feeders down and brought them into the house.

Placing the feeders on the counter top I took a pot out of the drawer, put it on top of the burner, and went to the pantry to get the sugar.

My husband Steven came into the kitchen. “Morning!” He watched as I pulled a measuring cup from the drawer. “What are you up to this morning?”

I was filling the measuring cup with sugar. “Making hummingbird nectar.” I looked over at him as I poured the measuring cup of sugar into the pot and brought the pot over to the sink to get water. “Again!” I said with disgust.

Steven looked confused with my annoyance. “When did you make the last batch?”

“Yesterday!” I cried as I filled the pot with four cups of water and took it back to the stove and turned on the burner.

“They must be pretty hungry.” Steven reasoned.

“Oh, they’re not the ones drinking it all.” I pulled out a wooden spoon and began mixing it, helping to dissolve the sugar. “They did it the night before, too.”

“Who?” Steven was leaned back against the counter top watching me.

“Bats!” I cried.

Steven shook his head. “How do you know bats are drinking it?”

“Because I looked it up.”

Steven started to laugh. “What did you look up?”

I tapped the spoon against the rim of the pot and placed it on the counter top. “I looked up: ‘What’s emptying my hummingbird feeders at night?’ and it said a few things can be doing it.” I held up my thumb. “Bears, which is ridiculous one for around here. ” I held up my pointer finger. “Raccoons.” I shook my head and pointed out to the porch. “No raccoon is shimming up that post and licking the feeders until they’re empty.” So, I held up my index finger. “Which leaves bats!”

Steven shrugged his shoulders. “I thought you liked bats?”

“I did.” I shook my head. “I mean, I do. I just don’t want them up this close to the house drinking all the nectar every night!” I turned around and saw that the nectar on the stove had come to a boil. I turned the heat off and moved the pot to a cooler burner.

“You know, bats eat a lot of insects.” Steven reminded me.

“Clearly not here they don’t.” I held up the empty hummingbird feeder. “They seem to like sugar water on this property!”

Steven shrugged his shoulders again. “I guess you could bring the hummingbird feeders in every night?”

I shook my head and sighed. “I guess I’m going to have to now.” I looked over at Steven and shrugged my shoulders. “I’ll just have to add it to the list of things I’m supposed to remember to do everyday.”

Steven looked out on the porch where my basil was beginning to droop. “Like watering the plants?”

“Oh, geez.” I looked out the window and could see all my herbs could use some water. “I knew I forgot to do something!”

It was early on a weekday morning when I was waiting for the tea kettle to heat up when I heard a loud and repetitive noise coming from outside. Going to the dining room window I could see a chipmunk sitting by the side of our deck, its whole body straining as it made a loud chucking noise.

“You seem pretty annoyed.” I said as my son Alex came into the room.

“Who’s annoyed?” he asked.

I pointed to the chipmunk. “Him. They make that noise when there’s a predator or when they’re claiming their territory.” I looked around the yard. “I don’t see any predators so I’m thinking he’s decided our yard is his.”

Alex looked out the window. “How can something that little be so loud?”

I had to laugh. “The Napoleon Complex isn’t just for people.”

The water had boiled so I went back to making my tea.

“What are you planning to do with your day?” Alex asked as he went in the cabinet to get his coffee supplies.

I sighed as I poured the hot water in my cup. “Well, now that school is out I’m thinking about spending the entire day out on the porch.” I went to the refrigerator to get the milk. “Maybe read a book or call a few friends and catch up.” Pouring a splash in my cup I put the milk back in the refrigerator before scooping up my cup and heading for the back door. “If you’re looking for me I’ll be right there.” I said as I pointed to my rocking chair. “Enjoying my tea and the fact that I have no place to run off to.”

“When I’m finished making my coffee I’ll come out too.”

“Great. See you in a minute.”

I went and settled into my favorite chair and began taking small sips as I watched the birds at the feeders.

When Alex came out I noticed our little chipmunk scurrying around the deck. Climbing on the Adirondack chairs and weaving its way through my clay pots of herbs.

I looked over at Alex as he was sitting down and put my finger to my lips and pointed to the chipmunk.

I had to laugh as I whispered. “Isn’t he cute?”

Alex shrugged his shoulders. “I’m pretty sure you think they’re cuter then I do.”

“Oh, come on!” I stage whispered. “He’s adorable!”

Just then the chipmunk climbed up the back of the Adirondack chair, hopped over to the railing, looked right at Alex and I, and began his loud chucking.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” I cried.

Alex started to laugh. “Oh, yeah. He’s adorable.”

“You’re not claiming the deck, little man.” I started to get up, hoping he’d get scared and scurry away.

Instead he backed up a few inches and continued yelling at us.

“I’m serious!” I cried. “You can have the yard but the deck is mine!”

He stopped yelling and quickly Spider-man crawled down the deck’s railing before hopping onto a clover patch.

“And that’s how I protect my territory!” I said as I sat back down in my rocking chair and picked up my cup of tea.

Alex looked over at me and started to laugh. “You chased off a chipmunk.”

“A trash talking chipmunk.” I reminded him.

I walked into the house, my hair in disarray, my clothes disheveled. “Well, that was a bad idea.” I said as I tossed my purse on the chair and went to get the heating pad from the linen closet.

My son Alex was coming out of his room. “What did you do?” he asked as he followed me to the living room as I held the heating pad in one hand and let the power cord drag on the ground behind me.

I yelped as I leaned over to plug it in. “Oh man. I need to get some heat on my neck and arm right now!” I eased my way into the chair and placed the still cold heating pad against my neck.

“What happened?” Alex asked as he sat across from me on the couch.

“You know the neck and arm pain I’ve been having lately?”

Alex nodded his head. “Yeah. It’s been about two weeks already. Didn’t it happen when you moved the porch furniture when Dad told you to wait for him to do it for you?”

I stared at him for a good five seconds before saying, “Do you really want to talk about that?”

Alex shook his head. “Nope, I guess not.”

I could start to feel the heat coming from the pad and adjusted it on my neck. Wincing as I shifted the pad. “Well, I thought it would be a good idea to get a massage. Maybe that would fix everything.” I began stretching my neck. “I Googled which place gave the best massage and the one at the Mall got the best reviews.”

Alex looked confused. “You mean the one where the massage chairs are lined up along the window like you’re on display?”

“Yup. That’s the one.” I continued stretching my neck in a different direction. “Clearly I made a mistake.”

“Were you in one of the window chairs?”

I shook my head. “No, I got to go in the back and use a table.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I mean you could still see me but I wasn’t on display.” I clicked the button to put the heating pad on a higher setting.

“So what happened?”

“I asked for a 30 minute deep tissue massage.” I began shaking my head feeling like I was reliving the entire event. “I felt like I was in a cage match when she began digging her elbow into my shoulder blade. Only I wasn’t fighting back!” I looked at my arm to see if the bruising had started yet. “I just laid there like a slug and took it.”

“Why didn’t you ask her to stop.” Alex said. “Or at least ask her to lighten up?”

“I kept thinking, ‘no pain, no gain’.” I began twisting my neck to see if it was beginning to loosen up. “Boy, was that a mistake!”

“You let her do that to you for 30 minutes?”

“Yup!” I tried twisting my back. “I feel like a complete idiot right now.”

“Hey, you didn’t know.” Alex reasoned then started to laugh. “But maybe the next time you go you can come up with a safe word to use that will make her stop?”

“There’s not going to be a next time for that!” I said as I adjusted the heating pad one more time. “I’m calling my chiropractor in the morning.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” Alex said as he got up from the couch. “Maybe next time start with the chiropractor?”

I nodded my head as I began to feel the heat was making it feel better. “Live and learn.” I sighed.

I was coming back inside after taking the kitchen garbage bag out to the pail. I went over to the kitchen sink to wash my hands, when I looked over at my husband Steven making his morning coffee.

“You’re never going to guess what I just saw outside in our back yard!”

“What?” he asked as he popped the Keurig pod into the top of the coffee maker.

“A fox!” I pumped the soap dispenser a few times and started lathering up. “It was trotting down our path in the woods, headed right for me, before it made a quick right hand turn to go under the bird feeders.” I put my soapy hands under the water. “It played a quick game of chicken with two squirrels that were there before it made it’s way around the side of our house and went across the street to the neighbor’s side yard.”

Steven took a mug out of the cabinet. “I’ve seen the fox in our yard before.”

“It’s pretty brazen.” I turned the water off and grabbed the dishtowel. “It looked right at me as it trotted down the path. I swear I was only twenty feet away from it and it couldn’t have cared less that I was there.”

I leaned my back against the sink as I dried my hands. “I have to say I was just as freaked out as the squirrels were when I thought it was headed my way.”

“I guess it lives somewhere in the neighborhood.”

“If you’ve seen it in our yard before do you think it’s made a den under our shed?”

Steven went over to the canisters lined up on the counter top. Pulling the lid off one of them he reached in and pulled out a Truvia packet. “Nope, not living under our shed because I’m still working on getting the skunk to move out from there.” Steven looked over and shrugged his shoulders. “That is unless they’ve decided to bunk in together.”

I laughed. “The shed’s not big enough to fit two animals under there.”

I looked out the kitchen window. “You know, now that I think about it I haven’t seen any bunnies munching on our clover so far this year.”

“Well, foxes are opportunistic eaters. I could see them going after the bunnies before the squirrels.”

“Why?” I asked. “Bunnies are just as fast as squirrels.”

Steven looked over at me raising an eyebrow. “But can they climb a tree?”

I sighed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right on that.”

I watched as several squirrels chased each other around the bird feeders. “Aren’t we all opportunistic eaters?” I looked over at Steven. “I mean honestly if you put a pizza in front of me right now I’d eat it.”

Steven looked over at the clock on the stove. “It’s seven thirty in the morning.”

“Exactly. And yet pizza sounds great right now.”

“Yeah.” Steven finally agreed. “It kind of does.”

My husband Steven and I were out for a ride, down by the shore, when we passed a house whose yard was a mess. I pointed to all the kids toys strewn all over the front lawn. The grass had to have been at least a foot tall.

“Okay, I get having kids is a lot of work and putting their toys away each night can be a pain. But maybe at least cut the lawn?” I looked over at Steven to see if he agreed with me.

He glanced to where I was pointing and shrugged his shoulders. “They’re probably doing the ‘No Mow May’”.

“The what?” I was confused.

“The No Mow May.” he said and proceeded to explain. “You don’t mow your lawn for the month of May.”

“Oh, come on!” I cried. “You’re making that up!”

“I’m not.” Steven shook his head. “Look it up.”

While Steven continued to drive I pulled my phone out of my purse and began the search.

After a few seconds I had to confess. “Well, you’re right. It’s a thing.”

I scanned through the article picking out the phrase, creating a habitat for early season pollinators.

“I guess it makes sense.” I looked over at Steven. “Giving the bees and butterflies a little help.” I started to laugh. “We help the pollinators even when our lawn is cut with all the clover we have.”

“That’s true.” He sighed. “Even though our lawn was originally sod.”

“Yeah, but now we’re helping the bees.”

“Completely makes all the money we spent laying sod worth it.”

We were passing another house whose lawn was overgrown. “There’s another No Mow May…”

I stopped myself in mid-sentence. “Nope, I take that back. It looks like nobody is living there.”

We drove on for a few more miles before Steven asked, “Did I tell you that our milkweed is beginning to come up?”

“I saw that.”

“I’m going to have to get them in bigger pots soon.”

“See?” I smiled. “Between our clover and all the milkweed we’re growing we’re doing our part for the bees and butterflies without having our front yard looking like a mess.”

We were going by another house that hadn’t cut their front lawn.

“Okay, people it’s June already!” I called out in the car. “It’s time to put this No Mow May to an end!”

Steven put his hand over his ear that was closest to me. “You know I’m sitting right next to you. You really don’t need to be shouting.”

“I’m not shouting.” I corrected him. “I’m projecting my voice.”

Steven looked confused. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “One sounds nicer than the other.”

Steven shook his head and laughed again. “Okay, can you project a little softer?”

I shrugged my shoulders again. “I can try. But I can’t make any promises.”

My son Alex and I were taking a walk in the woods when I noticed a yellow flower sticking up through some tall grass. I reached for my phone wanting to use my plant identifying app.

Alex saw me bending down getting ready to take the picture when he said. “That’s a yellow rocket.”

I stopped and looked up at him. “Are you kidding me?” I laughed. “A yellow rocket! Did you just make that up?”

Alex shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just letting you know what it is.”

I shook my head as I turned back to face the plant and snapped its picture. I stood back up and waited for the identification to happen. A few seconds later a picture popped up on my screen. I looked over at Alex shaking my head in disbelief. “You’re right! It’s a yellow rocket. How did you know that?”

Alex laughed. “You looked it up a few weeks ago and I thought the name was funny, so I remembered it.”

He pointed down to the tall grass that surrounded the flower. “That’s Kentucky bluegrass.”

I leaned down again and snapped it’s picture. A few seconds later it came up and he was correct again.

“Wow! The tables sure have turned.” I said as we continued our walk.

Alex looked over at me, a concerned look on his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Wasn’t it was just a couple of years ago, we were walking through our neighborhood and I was the one showing you the difference between a rhododendron bush and an azalea bush?” I looked over and laughed. “Now who’s teaching who?”

“Hey, one good thing about Covid, it got us walking more!” Alex said as we heard the pinging of a bike’s bell behind us.

“Coming up on your left!” they called again ringing the bell.

“And paying more attention to nature.” I said as we stepped aside to let the bike pass us.

Giving the biker a quick head nod and and quick “Morning!” as he passed.

We continued our walk and I noticed a small patch of white flowers and pointed to them.

“Star of Bethlehem.” Alex said.

“Hey, I knew that one!” I cried. “You just beat me to saying it!”

Alex shrugged his shoulders again. “I believe you.”

“Seriously!” I laughed. “I knew that one!”

I took my phone out again and used the plant identification app and snapped it’s picture.

“Are you checking to see if I’m right again?” Alex asked.

“No. I’m adding it to the plant history section. I’m collecting all the plants I know.”

I scrolled though the plants description. “Hey, do you want to start learning the symbolism of all the plants?”

Alex shook his head. “Nope.”

“Okay, so the star of Bethlehem symbolizes innocence, purity, honesty, hope and forgiveness!”

I looked down at the little flower with it’s white pointy petals then back at Alex.

“Wow, that’s saying a lot about a flower that they also call an invasive weed.”

Alex nodded. “Now who’s the teacher?”

“Hey! You’re right! I’m back teaching you stuff!”

We had just finished a day of rain and I was standing on the deck breathing in the smell of wet earth when my husband Steven came out and stood next to me.

“It’s really starting to get green out there.” I said as I looked out to our small woods. “The sassafras trees always take a little longer to come in but I do love them.”

Steven nodded. “Pretty soon we won’t be able to see the neighbors behind us.”

I smiled and nodded. “I do love the privacy.”

We watched as a squirrel and a chipmunk chased each other around the bird feeder.

“I just tossed a handful of peanuts out there for them.” The chipmunk came towards us, it’s cheeks stuffed with peanuts. “It looks like the chipmunk is winning.” I laughed.

I looked over at Steven. “You know, I was just reading up on the sassafras trees and it said that they have a natural aroma of root beer and that on a warm summer’s night you’re supposed to be able to smell it.” I looked doubtful. “I don’t remember the yard ever smelling like root beer. Do you?” I pointed to the woods. “And it’s not like we’re lacking in sassafras trees, we have dozens of them!”

Steven shrugged his shoulders. “There’s one way to find out.” He walked down the steps and headed for the path in the woods.

I followed him and went to the first tree along the edge of the woods and soon had my nose right next to the leaves. I inhaled. “Nope! Not even a slight whiff.”

Steven was further down the path in the woods. “I think it’s really supposed to be the roots, but I also think you can smell it when you snap a twig.” He snapped off a piece with several leaves attached and put it up to his nose. “Yup, there it is.”

He came back up the path and handed me the twig. I put it up to my nose and inhaled. I looked over at Steven and shook my head. “It smells green to me.”

I handed it back to Steven who once again smelled it. “It smells like root beer to me.”

I took the twig back and tried again. “Okay, maybe I smell it a little.” I lied.

People were writing that I was supposed to be smelling it in the air on a warm summers night, Steven was smelling it when he snapped a twig. I honestly think I just didn’t want to be the only one who didn’t smell it. So I lied.

I tossed the twig on the ground and headed back towards the house.

Steven stopped and looked toward the back of our property. “What do you think about putting some evergreens at the fence line so we have privacy year round?”

“I love that idea!”

A black-capped Chick-a-Dee, with a small twig in it’s beak, swooped in front of me headed for the bird house.

“Hey little man!” I called after the bird. “I know you’re in a hurry to make your nest but that was a little too close to my head!”

Steven started to laugh. “Talking to the wildlife again?” He came over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Maybe having privacy year round would be a good thing.”

“Why? Do you get embarrassed when I talk to the wildlife?”

He shook his head. “I don’t. But I know you.” He pointed his thumb toward the back of the property and started to laugh again. “But what the neighbor’s think when they see you is a whole other story!”

My son Alex and I were headed home after running some errands. We were driving down a four lane road when I spotted the dusty purple flowers of wisteria, its vines covering several trees along the roadway.

“It’s wisteria season!” I cried pointing to the flowers that always reminded me of grape clusters. “Remember the arbor we had, out the kitchen door, that was covered with wisteria?”

“Sure.” Alex nodded.

“I remember when I was a kid it took over a few nearby trees and would cover the roof of the kitchen in the spring.” I started to laugh. “But then your Dad got it under control.” I smiled as I recalled the memory. “I used to love standing under that arbor holding them in my hand and taking in that fragrance.” I slowly began to inhale then stopped. “Wait, I can’t remember the smell.” I looked over at Alex feeling confused. “Seriously! I remember loving their smell and now I can’t recall it!”

Alex looked over at me. “You’re not seriously thinking of stopping on a four lane highway to go over and smell them, are you?”

I guess he’d noticed I’d been slowing the car down. “Well…”

Alex looked behind us to see if any cars were coming. “Are you crazy?”

“That’s what hazard lights are for.” I smiled but then realized a parking lot was just ahead of us. “Okay, fine. I’ll pull in over there.”

I pulled up to the curb, put the car in park, but left the motor running and my driver’s side door open as I went over to the fence line where the wisteria was hanging.

Reaching over I grabbed one of the clusters of flowers and inhaled deeply. “Oh there it is!” I cried as I looked back at the car. “It’s like my whole springtime childhood is flashing back!” I took a few more seconds to enjoy their fragrance before snapping off the cluster and bringing it back to the car.

“Here.” I said handing it to Alex as I began to drive again. “It reminds me a little bit of lily of the valley.” I looked over at him. “What do you think?”

Alex held it up to his nose. “Okay, now I remember it.” He looked over at me. “But I have no idea what lily of the valley smells like so I can’t help you there.” He pushed the button to open his window.

“What are you doing?” I said as I caught his arm that was ready to toss the flowers out the window.”

“Oh, you’re keeping it?”

“Of course! I’m going to put it in a little vase so I can enjoy it for a few more days.”

We’d pulled into the driveway when I saw my husband Steven climbing out of his truck.

“Hey!” I called as he stopped and waited for me to catch up with him. I was holding the wisteria in my hand. “Look what I found! Remember the arbor you built for our wisteria?”

Steven laughed. “I sure do! I battled that vine for over twenty years!”

“But it was beautiful!” I cried. “And the smell!” I held it up for him to smell.

He turned around and started walking to the house. “Nope. I’m not planting wisteria in this yard.”

“Oh, come on!” I looked over at Alex. “How does everyone know what I’m going to say before I even say it!”

Alex came over and patted me on my shoulder. “What can I say.” He shrugged his shoulders and started to laugh. “You’re very predictable.”

“Oh, come on!” Sugar water was dripping through my fingers and into the sink. “How hard can this be!”
My son Alex came into the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”
I was struggling to fill the new hummingbird feeder I’d just gotten. My reading glasses were slipping off my nose as I used my forearm to push them back on so I didn’t have to use my sugar drenched hands. I looked over at the directions that were on the counter top.
“Okay, it said that a small bulge on the plastic and a notch on the metal cap need to align.” I held the base up close to my face to check. “I did that.” I looked over at Alex. “That took me a good fifteen minutes to find those.” I shook my head. “I should have gotten a magnifying glass they were so small!”
I looked back at the directions. “Then it says to pour the nectar in slowly.” So, I took the pot with the cooled nectar in it and began pouring it into the bottle. I looked back at the directions. “Then firmly but slowly screw the bottle into the base.”
I looked over at Alex. “Then it says to turn it upside down quickly. It literally says to do this in less then a second to avoid leaking!” I turned it upside down and watched as the nectar began dripping out.
“I give up!” I cried.
I looked over at Alex. “This is the third pot of nectar I’ve heated up, let cool down and tried to fill this thing!”
I put the hummingbird feeder into the sink and began rinsing my nectar sticky hands off. “I can’t believe I needed to read the directions to fill it but after the first try was a disaster I fished the directions out of the garbage and tried again.” I sighed. “And again!”
I turned the water off and reached over to get some paper towels. “Clearly I’m doing something wrong.” I shook my head.
Alex reached into the sink, took out the hummingbird feeder and began looking it over. After a few seconds he stopped turning it. “There’s a crack in the bottle.”
“What?” I looked over at the feeder. “Where?”
Alex pointed to a faint line in the red beveled glass. “Right here.” He began turning the bottle again, stopped and pointed again. “Here’s another one right here.”
I was squinting to see. “Oh, for the love of…” I began shaking my head. “I tried three times to fill that thing and it’s been cracked all this time?”
Alex shrugged his shoulders as he put the feeder back in the sink. “Well, I’m glad I could help.”
I balled up the directions and threw them in the trash. “Well now I’m glad it has some cracks in it because I was beginning to think I didn’t know how to fill a bottle with liquid!”
Alex smiled as he patted me on the shoulder. “You can call me anytime.”