Street Smarts By Lucy B. Richardson When my husband and I married, we moved to Frankfort, Kentucky. Since our yard was within view of our state's capitol building, many tourists passed our house. My elderly neighbors got me interested in gardening, and within a few years, our yard was a wonderland of flowers. People would even stop and peek through the fence to see all the blossoms that were not in plain view. As time went by, I found I was working in the gardens from sunup to sundown. I loved being outdoors, and the gardens were so large, there was always more to do. I also enjoyed sharing my flowers. I loved the surprised look on strangers' faces when I impulsively picked a bouquet and gave it to them as they passed by. Sadly, our neighborhood also had its share of street people, but I was happy to share my flowers with them, too. One morning, around 7:00 a.m., I was out in my gardens next to the sidewalk when one of the "usual" street persons approached. Most days, he just ambled past me, picking up cans and trash. Today, though, he suddenly stopped. He looked me square in the eyes. "Excuse me, lady," he said. "Can I tell you something?" "Sure," I said, expecting the usual compliments. "Whoever owns that house works you way too hard!" Then he went on his way. I laughed to myself all morning. «:*´`³¤³´`*:»§«^i^MISSI ^i^«:*´`³¤³´`*:»§« Richiele Marie [email protected] (Missi) I disbelieved in reincarnation in my last life, too. »§«:*´`³¤³´`*:»§«:*´`³¤³´`*:»§«:*´`³¤³´`*:»§«