A day at the beach

How many summers have gone by since this picture was taken?  You do the math, I don’t want to.  The sand on the beach is gone, the comforter was used to catch the shards of glass from an attempt to make home brew.  The fashions have gone in and out of style, but the one thing that remained the same is mother and daughter.  That didn’t change.   I love the stylish glasses my mom wore and the confident way she always looked into the camera.    There really isn’t anything extra special or in particular to talk about just that I like this photo.  I’ve erased quite a number of deep and meaningful thoughts, I decided I didn’t want this to be heavy, it is what it is a snapshot at the beach with my mom.  We look good don’t we? 

 

 

Thymes in the Garden

Did I tell you before how my mother could grow plants and flowers?  Did you know she probably could look at one and it would bud and bloom, well not really, but for someone that has a brown thumb it is hard to believe  that said thumb belonged to her own,  her daughter and not as hard to believe that she could really do that.

Everywhere we lived we had a garden, we always had flowers, petunias, lilies, hydrangeas , peonies, roses, and that’s only a  few of the flowers and plants, not to mention the vegetable gardens.  Even when she was declining in her health she still persevered in raising flowers and some  tomatoe plants.    It was nothing to her or so it seemed it was everything to me when she couldn’t do this anylonger.  I cannot imagine how it made her feel.

Just the other day I had an urge to plant some marigolds, but for the sake of the plant itself and not leaning too much to memories of my mothers work of her hands I chose to forgo planting and to maintain a visual in my mind of them. 

If plants could talk I’m sure the word was “Whew!”.