So not to potentially jeopardize anyone’s job, I have decided against writing extensively about my commencement week experiences gardening at the Emily Dickinson House and–far more scandalously–a certain president’s house (where we had to use the bathroom on the bottom floor. Ahem).
But I will say these things, because they are certainly positive:
I drank from his spigot (which just happens to be one of my favorite words).
I ran through his sprinklers.
I played with his amazing dog.
I picked lots of maple trees.
I learned how to identify Creeping Susans/Jennys.
The flowers were BEAUTIFUL.
And I got to work with Carl and Seguin, both of whom are wonderful.