Posts Tagged "flowers"

Friends, Flowers, and Grandma Jones

Posted by on Mar 11, 2018 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts |

Friends, Flowers, and Grandma Jones

This morning I enjoyed a ladies event at our church. We called it Friends and Flowers and Grandma Jones would have been delighted. One of our ladies—an expert flower arranger—gathered silk flowers along with all the tools we would need and we each made a bouquet. Now, this is not one of my talents or gifts. To be honest, I am not a flower arranger. That is my older sister. My idea of decorating is to slam a rose in a vase and say, “That looks great!” Much to my surprise, I actually enjoyed myself and am incredibly pleased with my creation, if I do say so myself. But that isn’t why my Grandma would have been delighted. We had around thirty women and girls there. There were mothers and daughters. Teenagers and the elderly. There were some of us in the middle. When we were done with our arrangements we snacked on muffins and fruit, drank coffee and tea, and were challenged with a great devotional on The Flowers of the Field. It was a perfect morning all around. But, that isn’t why Grandma Jones would have been delighted. Last week, while in South Dakota I had a brilliant idea.  You see, I have African violets. I am not one of those “green thumb-ites” who can grow anything, but I can grow African violets. Here is my trick. When the plant starts looking distressed, (see picture below) I pick one of the better looking leaves, stick it in water, and when it gets roots I plant it. So, I always have an extra plant or two hanging around, just in case the original one dies on me. I am really afraid of killing my African violets. Especially the pink one, because it is a great-great-grandchild of one of Grandma Jones’ plants. She could grow them like no one else I ever met, and she always had some blooming in her kitchen window. Even in the nursing home, she had one she watered and kept by the window. For me, it is a connection to her and just one more legacy she left me. Recently I noticed that the poor neglected plant had propagated several new plants in the one pot. It was too crowded to grow. So, I separated them and ended up with five extra pink Grandma Jones violets. What on earth was I going to do with them? I couldn’t throw them away! I don’t have enough windows for that many plants and my kitchen table was being overrun with plants. Back to my brilliant South Dakota idea. I decided if this morning was about friends and flowers, I was going to take some flowers for my friends. So, I loaded the violets into the car and off they went to the ladies event. I am pleased to say that I didn’t bring a single one home. I was especially delighted to see that several of the teenage girls took a plant. I told them where...

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A Field of Flowers

Posted by on Jun 21, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

This morning I drove my cousin Phyllis to the airport in Charlotte so she could return home to Kansas. I’m going to miss her. I did my best to convince her to stay, but she seemed intent on getting home. We left early this morning and enjoyed the drive; it’s a beautiful time of year here in the Carolinas. One of my favorite things about the scenery here are the flowers in the medians. At some point in the past the locals planted patches of flowers in medians and along the edges of the roads. You will be driving along and all of a sudden there is a mass of yellow, red, purple, or pink flowers. It’s breathtaking. As Phyllis pointed out it is also practical since it cuts down on the area needing mowed. I focus on the breathtaking part though. My eyes soak up the glorious colors and I dream of planting some in my garden. I couldn’t help but think this morning of our recent trip out to the site of the sod house in the Sandhills of Nebraska. Other than the grove my great-grandpa’s family planted and a windmill there isn’t anything left in that valley. Nothing but prairie grass, cow manure, and wildflowers. I couldn’t help but wonder if Grandma picked some of those wildflowers for her sod house. I would have. Maybe in the morning she got up and went outside with her little boys. Maybe she walked over the hills and collected the flowers into a bunch, carried them to the house, and put them in a mason jar on the table. Maybe her little boys picked some for their mommy while they were outside playing. I know they picked “cow chips” for fuel, but maybe once in awhile they picked something that smelled better! The few flowers we spotted in that vast valley hardly compare in beauty to the mass along the road. But, I couldn’t help but think that my grandma probably enjoyed them more, especially after the long winters in that tiny sod house. It’s all in your perspective, isn’t...

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