Two Junes | Creative Nonfiction
Two Junes June was approaching and with it, my 70th birthday. They wanted to give me a party, the grown children. I was horrified. At 3 score and 10, who needs a big party full of one’s progressively enfeebled contemporaries raising their glasses to propose sloppy toasts? Well, what do you want, they said rather crossly. What I really wanted—I had known this for several increasingly arthritic years—was a new garden. That was two Junes ago. The garden they gave me is simply the old garden remade, a 32-foot-square plot below the pond on the only land we have on this hillside farm that ...
Source: creativenonfiction.org