One of the unspoken joys of an older man’s life is an ability to underestimate a son or daughter. Bear with me and I will explain.
Kala has lived near next door to us for a few years now. We see her in her garden. Watering mostly or cuddling her cat, deadheading roses, obsessing over greenfly, checking on her clematis. And then this year she started painting her fence. From neutral white to a deep, dark grey. Coat after coat. I was worried. It is a town garden with neighbours on all sides. My concern was it would shrink the space. Well, I was wrong.
