A tale of two nails

To be fair, I may have brought this on myself. My friend, Katriel, is good at everything. And instead of celebrating her success and being her biggest cheerleader, I am, instead, on a constant hunt for a chink in her armor or a chip in her nail.

For the second year in a row, Katriel's Morning Glories have failed to flourish while my lattice of lovelies greets the rising sun with regal regularity. 

And I rub it in...carefully chronicling each bloom to send to her. Delighting in her jealousy (which I must PRY from her).

Did I mention that Katriel is good at everything? Turns out, I'd foolishly underestimated her patient capacity for comeuppance. 

Checking in with her on a Saturday evening, I shot her a quick picture of some Sweet Peas I'd gathered before embarking on, according to Brad Mosiman, a few, quick chores.

So I was already in a bad mood.

Then, I find out that Katriel is LAKESIDE.

Ugh.

I am watching Brad Mosiman clear out a gutter.

Katriel is lounging on a dock, overlooking sparkling waves.

I am standing by the road while Brad Mosiman rakes the grooves out of the shoulder caused by the constant traffic of side-by-sides and four-wheelers. "That's not even our property!" I yell at his diminishing figure.

Katriel is aboard a boat, skipping lightly, like a pebble, across the surface of the reflecting water. 

I am carrying two empty buckets, following my husband so he can shovel some dirt to smooth out our driveway. "Won't driving on our driveway smooth it out?" I ask him. He must not have heard me as he balanced the shovel across his shoulders while lugging the two buckets back. 

Katriel is transfixed as the sun makes its slow, poetic plunge into the dark depths of the rippling water.

I am disgusted when Brad Mosiman wants to water the flowers "super-quick" before calling it a day.

This was my fault. Had I erred on the side of graciousness, I would not have been awash in selfish, jealous misery all evening. I made my (flower) bed of nails...it was time to go water them.