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Recently, a friend asked to see pictures from our trip to Europe. I got my laptop, and we started clicking through the photographs.

“Wait….” my friend says, “these are all photos of gardens.”

“No,” I reply, here’s one of people doing Tai Chi.”

“Yeah, in a garden,” she counters.

“Here’s a wheelbarrow,” I offer.

“Nice try,” she shoots back.

“OK, how about this shot of a sand sculpture we saw in someone’s yard.”


“Now we’re getting close,” she says, “where was this?”

“In this village,” I hedge.


“I see roses…” she comments. “Wait, what village is this?”

“In Giverny,” I admit. “We went to see Monet’s garden.”

“Of course you did,” my friend replies. “Come on, you were in Paris. You must have seen some churches or art.”

“Well, here are some shots from an exhibit we saw in front of City Hall.”

“It’s all plants!” she practically screams.

“Yes, but these were all pieces created by artists. It was called The Ephemeral Garden.”

“I’m sure it was.” My friend is holding her head in her hands at this point. “Maybe we should skip the photos you took in Paris. Let me see some from when you were in Italy before you went to France.”

“OK, here’s a detail from a delightful fresco we stumbled on in Assisi,” I begin.

“That’s enough.” my friend shouts.

“But this one isn’t of a garden.”

“No, it’s of a guy peeing on PLANTS!”

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