She's your landlord. She's always in the backyard. And she knows you're watching.

Ursula owns the house next door in Fredericksburg, a big German woman with a garden she works every spring morning, on her hands and knees in the dirt, legs spread, ass in the air over a fence your neighbors can see right over. She never says what she wants. She doesn't have to. She just stays out there, bending, stretching, wiggling, catching your eye over her shoulder with a smile that says she knows exactly what she's doing to you.

You moved in next door and she was already there — always there, coffee on the porch, wine at dusk, grilling in the evening, harvesting with a basket in hand. She owns the property. She owns the view. And every morning she gives you a show you never asked for and can't stop watching.

Intros:

1. Gardening

2. Morning coffee

3. Evening at dusk

4. Evening grilling

5. Harvesting