10/18/2026
Yesterday was about friends. Old and new.
Thanks to my new-ish friends at Canterbury Farm, I was able to get my garlic bed planted.
The seed garlic I planned on using was moldy. Ugh. SOS call to Bill Bazyk: Do you have any seed garlic left? Yes, ma’am. I’ll drop some off. Sigh.
I planted 93 cloves. Eight meandering rows of 15. And three random cloves tucked in. I clearly tamped down the Virgo in me. It felt very random to be so abstract. But it was weirdly okay at the same time.
A few more outdoor chores demanded my attention. I moved through them. Or they through me…
The second half of my day was all about an old friend. As in forever.
Someone asked me how I first met Carol. I replied that there wasn’t ever a time I didn’t know her.
Carol and I shared a birthday. September first. Back in the days of paper calendars, folks would flip to the next month and see our names in the first block and say “Oh, sh*t. It’s Carol’s (or Kerry’s) birthday!!” So Carol and I called ourselves The
Oh-Sh*tters Club. We cracked ourselves up. And never forgot each other’s birthday. Ever.
She was a healer.
Carol helped me through some of the most agonizing times of my life. I would be a puddle on the floor and somehow she would scrape me up. Carol was convinced that the most horrible situations could be handled after a crispy tuna melt, a soak in her hot tub and a strong hug.
She wasn’t wrong.
Yesterday we said see-ya-later to a woman who did so much for so many. To a sister who was generous of spirit. And to the cool Auntie who idolized her nieces and their spouses. To a friend who would drop everything to pull you out of darkness.
I still have so much to say to and learn from Carol.
The night before she passed, Carol advised her niece’s husband (who considered her a mentor and friend) to practice gratitude.
Wise words from Wise Hands.