Gardening for Dummies

I'm thinking maybe the cruelest months have passed.

July has been ushered in with a grand stroke of good fortune, in the form of a large chunk of my backyard tree laying lifeless beneath my family room window. The fallen tree branch doesn't appear to have taken any roof tiles with it, and there was nobody -- human or canine, at any rate -- in the yard when it fell. There don't appear to be any broken windows, and the bulk of the large tree remains robust and standing.

But here's the best part. Just the other day, my neighbor had pointed out that chunk of tree, which, as she had noticed from the vantage point of her own backyard, was dangling rather precariously over my house. I promised her (and myself) that I would get right down to business and contact a tree cutting and removal service before the dying branches snapped off and ended up in my bedroom. No need, as it turns out. The ominous skies that sent us packing last night just as the concert at Ravinia was about to start may have destroyed our fun, but that was back in June. Unbeknownst to us, as we scurried out of the park to avoid being struck by lightning, the storm was actually performing some charity work for me back home.

The list of repairs that need doing in my house before I make a killing on it and move into the snazziest double-wide in town has been growing, and last night I went to bed with my heart racing a bit as I made mental notes of all the phone calls I would have to make today. Naturally, the tree thing had made it to the top of the to-do list. After all, my track record on the good luck front has not been stellar over the last two months, and it didn't seem too far fetched to assume that it was only a matter of time -- very little time, no doubt -- that my backyard foliage would become a wrecking ball.

It looks like the stars have realigned themselves, though, now that May and June are ancient history. July promises only good things: the anniversary of my blog (an anniversary I plan to actually celebrate), a shortened to-do list, and nothing but sky, now, hanging over my house. Blue sky, with no dead tree branches or serious dark clouds. Who knows? Maybe my daughter's toilet will fix itself. And maybe, when I arrive in New York tomorrow to help my broken mother, she will be in a good mood and running sprints. Stranger things have happened.

That tree branch might just be the bearer of good tidings. And, I have to believe, good tidings can come to those who wait.