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Tiny rose |
by Mauverneen Blevins
When my grandmother died I remember thinking if she left me
something, I hoped it was her green thumb. She could grow anything. Her
windowsills were full of blooming African Violets, the only houseplants she
ever had I think. She could take a cutting from a rose bush, stick it in the
ground, overturn a glass jar on it for an instant mini-mini-greenhouse, and
before long there would be another rose bush growing under there.
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Lilacs |
Both my grandparents had green thumbs actually, growing the
most awesome garden year after year. I grew up eating fresh veggies on a daily
basis and fruit, like cherries and peaches, from the trees in the yard. I even helped can everything at summer's end - my job was to wash the cucumbers. And flowers? From spring tulips to fall mums, their
yard was full of variety and color – Geraniums, Dahlias, Coral Bells, Irises, etc.
etc. To this day mums are my favorite – I think because they remind me of my
grandparents - and my childhood. And whenever I smell lilacs, I just close my eyes and breath deep
to be transported back to the alley behind the house on
Draper Avenue, where towering lilac
bushes bordered both sides and a path was worn between my house and my friend
Rita’s.