The patio garden and its stay of execution

A funny thing happened on the way to the patio garden: we ran into a bit of legal trouble.

OK, to be fair, it wasn’t REAL legal trouble. There weren’t cops involved, and no one was led away in handcuffs. But there were rules and regulations tossed about via some very stern emails, and for awhile, I was a bit stymied about how exactly to explain this to all of you.

No garden? Again? After all that?

The risk was there. For about a week, the wine barrels hung in the balance. I had been told to have them removed (and let me tell you how thankful, right about then, I was to have been too lazy/scared to figure out how to get holes drilled in the bottom and dirt up to the patio…), but I asked for a stay of execution.

<Insert your best British accent here…> Please, ma’am, can I have some more tomatoes? <Return to your native way of speaking. Unless you’re British, in which case, please continue as you were.>

The stay, indeed, arrived by email on a Saturday night. “Yes to tomatoes!” hollered Fatemeh from the other room. “Check your email!”

There it was: The homeowners’ association of the condo building where we rent had relented. The tomatoes…and their wine barrels…had passed muster. Finally, it was go time.