Vashon Island news-record. [volume] (Vashon, Wash.) 1919-1954, 1931-07-09
FORUM

don't believe the blot on my 'scutch-
con" that I mentioned in my letter
last week was noticeable. If it was
they were all perfect ladies and not
one Of them even asked me how 1
did 1t.
You know Aggie, when went in
there I was riled as usual. When you
have just paid your garage bill and
you run over tack just as you leave
the place. mean the place where you
paid the bill-it looks like skull
druggery, whatever that is. But the
minute I entered the hall and shifted
one snuff forgot all mundane things
and thots Of heaven and peace and
happiness filled my mind.
And speaking of heaven, whatll you
bet that when we get there we'll see
Mrs. Alex Stewart out hoeing in the
asphodel beds? She'll have her crown
pushed on the back of her head and
her robes tucked up and won't she be
making the beryl and lapis lazuli and
chalcedony fly? She'll very likely get
to be head gardener. And over in an
other corner there'll be Mr. Harmeling
and Mr.. Laughlin discussing the
relative merits Of sprays and disinfect-
ants But halt! That doesn't sound
Just right. Can't be any pests up
there. Well let them classify the
trees and flowers. I'll bet all the best
species will have "Vashonii' tackled on
if they are given carte blanche. (Say;
Aggie, don't you think use some
pretty nifty words occaslonally2 !,
love to write them because can't pro-
nounce them and do so long to be
numbered among the intelligentsia)
But to go back to flowers and gar
dens. I know one grand old lady on
this Island whose name can't mem
ton because we are connected by
matrimony, who will begin building a
rock garden as soon as she reaches
the pearly gates. There probably
wont be any rocks there that suit her
because she has preference for
Vashon products, but she'll poke
around until she finds a likely substi-
tute and then everyone will have to
lay aside their musical instruments
and fall to. You know she is SO rabid
on the subject of rockeries that ~
positively isn't safe to drive past the
cemetery with her. She eyes the
tonbstones with a speculative eye and
says in musing tone, Nov that
granite one would make an awful
pretty background for my creeper.
Stop minute" But I always step on
the gas when she gets that peculiar
light in her eye. I knew that means,
"get out and load that one in" And,
Aggie, you know it looks bad to take
rocks out Of the cemetery. I'm a
respectable citizen, at least was until
1 began going around with this rock
fiend. She wants me to take her to
Mt. Rainier soon, but I know how
much can lift and anyway she only
has two medium sized lots.
There are all sorts of gardeners.
There's one fellow who isn't satisfied
with raising American trees, shrubs
and vegetables, no, he has to try
propagating Chinese and Japanese
plants. He's Methodist and he just
naturally can't help that foreign
missionary streak in him I'll wager he
goes out every day and leaning on his
hoe exhorts those Chinese legumes to
cast aside their foreign customs and
pests and adopt American manners
and morals. He'll keep at them too
until they do get all our plant diseases
and then he'll rescue them and be
happy.
You know, Aggie, it seems like
heaven is the proper place for people
that raise lilies and roses and sweet
fruits but what about those fellows
that grow sour cherries and goose
berries? just can't reconcile the
Harmeling brothers with celestial
gardens.
Now, Aggie, don't think I'm being
sacreligious. After all heaven mus5
be a place where all the inhabitants
are happy and if you think that
Grandma Stafford and a lot of others
I could mention, are going to be happy
without hoes and rakes and spades
you don't know as much about your
neighbors as give you credit for.
Well, Aggie. it was grand show,
wasn't it? came home and dug up
all my flowers turned them over,
watered them, and left them with a
whispered prayer.
Must go and whisper to them again.
AS ever,
OF Miss Ear.