The Secret Garden Cafe

I am having coffee in the Secret Garden Cafe. It is a place that I discovered recently. It features birdsong and flower blooms. It is enclosed and out of the way. Very few know about it.
Which is why I am the only customer on this Wednesday morning. The coffee is good. It is self-service, right now. I do not see any barrista.
Of course, I miss Gretchens Cafe. I miss the dogs, mostly. Damn.

Yesterday I got a couple of Mental Health hours with Lucy the Dog. Gretchen called to ask if I wanted to spend two or three hours dogsitting Lucy. I got exited. I planned. Lucy and I went to Mary Hedlins. Paula, Marys' helper, asked: " where we are going to get good coffee?"
I tasted the swill she had. Atrocious. Horrible. Vile. Wretched. These words came to mind. I am being kind by not including the more colorful words that came to mind.
Lucy and I went gleaning. I picked a bag full of lambsquarter, which is a highly nutritious weed that grows in abundance in the field next to Marys' greenhouses. Lucy ate grass. With a basket full of flowers to plant and a bag full of greens, Lucy and I went home. I was riding my bike since without the bike Lucy would get impatient with my pace. Slowpoke. Slug. Second coming. She was careful and stayed close by. I was worried that she might run into the street and get hit by a hurried car.
The greens I spread out on my bench to dry for the winter. I cooked some volunteer cabbage plants I found and ate that for breakfast, with rice and beans from last night. It was a feast.