Daffy was decidedly not thinking about things with Noble at this point. He'd made it very clear that whatever future plans they'd once had no longer included her input and so everthing was just, broken. The dull ache in her chest was hard to ignore, but she did her best; it wasn't like she could tell anybody why she was suddenly all reclusive and mopey.

So Daff did what she did best when she had too many thoughts on her mind and too much time on her hands; she weeded the garden. The Potts family garden was magically expanded in the fence behind their home. Fortunately they lived on the edge of the park itself, the end of Thimblewhit Turn allowing for an already larger garden than normal, with a little help. There was a little pond with all kinds of things her father was studying, each Potts girl that lived at home had their own section of the garden, and of course their mother had a large vegetable garden already started. It was a lot of work, but they all enjoyed it far too much to let the vigor of the upkeep prevent them from pursing their passions.

After supper was Daff's time to retreat the garden and find a little solitude. There were weeds to pull and garden gnomes to deal with. She was elbow deep in dirt, a little sweat beading on her forehead along with smudges of earth on her cheeks, when she heard the shout, follow by the loud thud behind her. She'd been so caught up in what she was doing, humming along and thinking about some work she had to finish up tomorrow, that she hadn't even noticed the incoming object headed straight for— and landing in— the pumpkin plants.