B looked out onto the sodden back deck and said “we don’t have an umbrella”! My mind at first went to the handheld kind till I saw what she was seeing.
(normally there’s a green canvas table umbrella there. the round copper table on its side was already like that.)
So I went outside to see where the umbrella had flown off to. Around the corner from the deck I spied it threaded among the cables and speared in a thorny rose, one vine wrapped around its crank even:
It’s well camouflaged but you can make out the pole from this view.
Anyhow, B figured out that with a ladder and a heavy wooden rake we could slide it along until we could flip it without getting it hung up on the fence, trellis, or wires, and then catch it for a safe landing, a little worse for wear.
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