Holy flying monkeys! It's actually a garden! Lillies, roses, hydrangea, a flowering dogwood. Almost like the garden guy read my mind. Plus trumpet vine and honeysuckle for hummingbirds. Yes, there are hummingbirds in Brooklyn. Not the suicide bombing squadroons like in Marin, but still. And ivies and daisies and coreopsis and things that turn the color of pomegranate in the fall and things with red berries for the winter and things that are always green and not ouch-poky.

I'm tired and wired and excited and filthy. Tomorrow is moving day.