Another day where I’m just feeling a bit melancholy, so I went walking outside, looking for some color and got snappy.
Just a little more Spiraea (above)…
I believe these plants were here pre-’55, before my grandparents moved here, with Mama and her brother in tow, so these beauties have some history.
I love our old house. I love that Mama was raised in this old house. I love that we visited here in the summers. I can still smell the tomatoes cooking on the stove, preparing them to be jarred. I love our old pecan trees that I’ve watched grow and I used to climb. Now I have a swing hanging there for me and Hallie. I used to lay in this back yard with my brother, making pictures out of the clouds. Now, me and Hallie do that. I used to shuck corn here, and shell peas, and eat ice-cold watermelon, fresh out of the fridge. It was mine and my brother’s reward for working in the garden and with the vegetables. I can still feel the watermelon juice dripping down my arms. Oh, the yummy, juicy, sticky deliciousness. And then, we’d go inside and watch Flipper on the tube.
Those days may be long gone, but the memories feel almost like yesterday. Whenever I catch the fragrance of pecans, tomatoes, watermelon, gardenia, even coffee (Grandma used to cook it on the stove in a percolator), it takes me back there, to that place, to this old house, to my youth.
Sometimes, I still hear Grandma calling my name as I’m coming up the steps to the back door. “Carol! Is that you?” Hallie never hears it, but it’s crystal clear to me. I wonder why.
Her ghost visits here, and she has frequented this house ever since Hallie and I moved here about ten years ago. Ever since that first Halloween.
Sorry, I’m rambling today. I guess I’m just in that mood. Carrying on…
So, anyway, here’s some flowers for you with some berries mixed in (don’t eat ‘em!), my friend, and I hope ya like ‘em. Don’t forget to put ‘em in some water. *hug*