Lucy & Ricky

Lucy and Ricky. Fred and Wilma. Rob and Laura. Bonnie and Clyde. They’ve been known by these iconic names.

They did their pas de deux on King Street and when we lived briefly in a hotel while seeking new digs, they were pretty good sports. Stayed as guests on Vannier Drive. Danced in a new yard and delighted Bestie. She liked their schtick so much that when we finally arrived in San Mateo she kept them for a while more. It was a long good-bye. Finally Bestie was ready and Fred and Wilma moved their show along.

Fallow in winter it’s some time in May when the sun’s just right. Time for them to come out and play. A melodic, "Ooooooh, Rob", and Laura's in another jam.

I'm not much for fence-sitting, you know, but there they linger. The only fence-sitters I tolerate. In fact, they're A-OK by me. Waiting, waiting. Their only decision is to stay put till next season.

In the midst of change I crave I’m comforted by their sameness. 

I planted them this morning. Impatiens and lobelia. Lucy was bored beyond words with her long, braided, ivy locks. They didn’t suit. She might look a bit like Butthead now but she wanted to switch it up. I obliged.

Ricky’s a bit worse for the wear (c'mon, with Lucy for 30 years?), he’s sporting a hairline fracture. A hit to the head. Not sure how much longer he’ll hang in. Gotta say, guy's sure got some staying power.

At least for this year, maybe the last or maybe not, we’re all together for lazy summer days, spruced up and lookin' fine for BBQs and baseball, fireworks, friends and family. 

Gracie and George. Ralph and Alice. Zeus and Hera.