Ruth stared at her sagging fence and shook her head. The honeysuckle had looked beautiful as it climbed up her mailbox, but now the vines had worked their way onto the fence. Their weight made it buckle ever so slightly, and she could not abide such nonsense, but if she yanked them off, would it harm the ones still encasing her letterbox? Uncertain, the question buzzed around her like a honeybee in search of pollen. 

She couldn’t stand there pretending she didn’t know, not when Edna across the street was likely spying on her every move. If her grandson were here, she’d ask him to look it up on that phone he was always glued to. Instead, she needed to confer with the Farmer’s Almanac because she wouldn’t ask Edna for help, that’s for sure.

Not after the stunt she pulled at the County Fair last summer. There’s no way the tag fell off Ruth’s floral arrangement and vanished seconds before the judges entered the tent. Well, she wouldn’t let Edna steal the Best Yard award away from her. Not this month. If it meant hiding the blip in her fence, Ruth was certain she could manage it somehow. 

She stepped back and squinted at the thick foliage as a car slowed. It wasn’t too noticeable unless you were looking for it, right? She turned to welcome the visitor, only to come face to face with Edna. 

“Afternoon, Ruth, the city council asked me to join the lawn judging committee.”

Word: vine | Action: climbing