Here is the gardener for my neighbors. She is in her late fifties or early sixties. She does their whole yard, lawn and plants, with one helper, once a week. Her pickup truck is stickered with patriotism. She clearly has arthritis or knee injuries and walks with a kind of swiveling cowboy swagger that says: I am in pain and I don’t give a damn. She chain smokes. While she is working she does not stop except to take stock of progress or give instruction to her assistant. She’s so focused that it takes two or three attempts to contact her before she’ll break away from work.

She is a force of nature.