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What used to glow falls victim to mowing

When I walked in the kitchen, I knew Better Half had been doing yard work in general, weed-whacking in particular.

The evidence was on the kitchen island. No — not grass clippings or weeds and thankfully not the weed-whacker itself.

But there were three little pitiful-looking displaced bulbs that heretofore had been part of a string of flashing, multi-colored solar lights that had encircled one of my flower beds.

I shook my head and released a heavy sigh, hearing in my head the cautionary warning Better Half had issued early on in the mowing season, “to be mindful/careful, watch out, Janice, where you put all those solar lights, all this carnival lighting,” he called it, because grass maintenance must be done.

A man’s gotta’ mow.

No ornamental stuff is safe, including solar lights, believe you me.

The three little bulbs had been sacrificed for the sake of a manicured lawn, left on the kitchen island where they have plenty of company with other odd things.

I realized as I looked at them that these three little solar lights would no doubt remain on the island top indefinitely, from here to eternity, if I would not intervene at some point and move them elsewhere or just toss them.

What all is on that island counter is an eclectic mix of what shows up and can’t seem to find a landing zone anywhere else.

The only attractive thing on it is a cactus that’s thriving in a decorative canister-type container.

I dare not move it and put this plant’s life in jeopardy. When a potted plant is doing well somewhere, leave it be. On the front of this tall oval tin is a decoupaged picture of a pair of cowboy boots artistically framed by a rope. I discovered this find at an off-the-beaten path greenhouse in Amish country that a friend took me to. “It’s you,” she said when we both spotted it, a comment that cemented the purchase, not that I need encouragement or validation to buy anything.

All the other stuff on the counter top isn’t really what you want in a magazine spread showcasing your home decor, certainly not the generic brand, jumbo size container of a fiber supplement right there in plain view. How embarrassing. Not much you can do to make it look better. I tried a doily underneath it and thought of wrapping a ribbon around it. That sort of thing on the kitchen island top is just what you want as a focal point for visitors to see, right? No matter how many times I move it to a cupboard, though, it’s back like a bad dream.

It keeps company with a variety of over-the-counter medicine and vitamins that belong in a cupboard, too, but mysteriously congregate on the island top as well.

Some of the bottles are upright. Others are upside down. Both indicate whether a dose has been taken, which seems a bit confusing to me but whatever works, I guess.

There’s a pile of little slips of paper near them. They have notes and scribbles on them but the vast majority make no sense. Even with a secret decoder ring, I can’t figure out if they bear messages or reminders of any value.

Near all these odds and ends is an old plastic bowl with a serving spoon in it, oh so lovely.

And it’s close to a 40-pound bag of timothy grass pellets beautifully parked atop a step stool near the island.

Very photo worthy.

I think I’ll leave the little solar lights where they are, though. I’m guessing before mowing season ends, they’ll get some company.

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