You guys, I’ve experienced PrematureDeckElation*. Some of you may suffer from this too, which is sad for all parties involved. Except one person is usually a lot more sad.
*say that three times fast. it’ll bring out the 12-year-old-schoolboy in you.
First, in my haste to hasten summer, I blew the deck too soon. I know, right? I didn’t know there was a “too soon to blow it,” but I’ve since been corrected.
The flowers from the pretty pretty trees on my street are all. over. the entire world. 
But mostly on my deck.
Yellow pollen all over the furniture. And up my snorkeltube. That’s a nose for those of you who didn’t grow up with a coolio daddio who called noses snorkeltubes.
Also, I’ve taken for granted that the rains we’ve had was going to do it’s job of watering my plants.
It did not, and today, when I stepped out onto my 54-degree morning deck – bundled up in a robe and slippers because it’s only mid-May, why would I expect it to be warm?? – I discovered one of my pretties is …. a little worse for the wear, in just a week. 
Can this plant be saved, Reader??
I don’t know. I’m no green thumb. Obviously.
Every summer I’m annoyed by the amount of attention plants require. They are just so. damn. needy. At the first sign of my saying, ‘eh, fuck it, they’ll be fine with the rain,” they teach me a little lesson. They’re really rather bossy, Reader.
This little beauty is trying to help me out, though. She’s still standing pretty.
And my herbs are still looking good. Just that little planter on the side says nope.
So now I’ve got to go give my deck another blow job. And make it a point to keep all my plants at optimum moistness.
It’s a lot of work being in a relationship with my deck, Reader. Don’t get the impression all this comes easy.