The Dog Days of August were upon us, big time, when the doorbell rang---
Two neighbor (barely) teens said: "We'll weed your flower beds for ten bucks apiece." BE, being soft of heart, hired them.
We had had much rain and it was true... new weeds...
Now as the heat of the day rose along with the sun--- Knock...knock..."Er, ma'am, we underestimated how hard this job is---we are going up to fifteen bucks... each. Okay?"
(Thirty bucks, in 1944 is what young Mil made for sixty hours yard work...95 degree days...)
Soft-hearted BE raised their pay.
Then, after awhile she realized that these inexperienced yard people didn't know A VOLUNTEER TOMATO from a weed ....and we had TWO mixed in, of which we were very proud and rooting for...
Suddenly remembering them she rushed out and put a big sign in front of the maters-- then showed them to the overworked boys---
"These are volunteer tomatoes--- they deserve a chance, okay?"
Yesterday, one came through for us...and we hate to eat it!
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