“Okay, I need to return her call anyway.” At the rate I’m going, I won’t make it to the greenhouse till after lunch. She tucked her phone in her pants pocket, grabbed a denim shirt, and, whistling for Spook, headed out the door. “Come on, you big lug. And no, we are not going for walkies.” Their rescue Lab-Rottweiler cross grabbed his harness off the hook by the door. “No, we’re going to the greenhouse.”

“Spook can come with me,” Fred said. “I’m going to Tractor Supply for more shavings for the chicken house.”

When the dog heard his name, one ear perked up and his tail beat a tattoo against her leg.

“We’ll be out in the greenhouse when you’re ready. Come on, boy. Go find your stick.”

Ginny paused on the step and lifted her face to the warming sun. How she loved spring, especially after the winter that seemed to last forever. Spook brought her a stick and she tossed it out in the driveway. He’d been known to tear through a flower bed in a shortcut so she was careful where she threw it.

Fred had stopped to open the greenhouse door when he’d gone to feed the chickens earlier but still the moist warmth welcomed her. Even in February when Fred had shoveled a path to the greenhouse for her, she loved every moment of greenhouse time. She started various flowers, finally finding the lace ruffled pansy seeds she’d seen once, and other old standbys. State Fair Zinnias for height, Thumbelinas for borders, and several colors of newer varieties. Visitors could always tell zinnias were one of her favorite annuals. She set two gallon-sized pots on the bench and poured potting soil in the bottoms, then transplanted the Romas, Early Girl, cherry, and yellow pear tomatoes to the bigger pots and filled them with soil right up to the leaves so roots would grow all the way up the stem. Next planting would be in the ground, but she needed to wait until the danger of frost passed by. Wisconsin was known for frosts into May and even June once in a great while.

“I’m ready. You want anything from Tractor Supply?”

“Not that I can think of.” She wrinkled her forehead, supposedly to help her think better. “I had a list somewhere.”

Fred threw the stick for Spook. “Okay, then we are out of here. Come on, dog.”

She leaned out the door. “Did you get diesel for the tractor?”

“No. Thanks.” He detoured by the garage for the gas can. “You interested in fried chicken for lunch?” he hollered back.

“I am always interested in fried chicken, you know that.” She grinned to herself as she returned to her transplanting. Oops, forgot to call MJ back. She punched in the numbers and hit Speaker so she could keep on transplanting.

After the greetings, she could hear Looper barking in the background. She added, “Before I forget, I have extra tomato plants here if you want to come out and get them. Other starts too.”