One of my fondest memories from childhood all the way through high school is gardening with my mom. Every spring I think of her. Spring means waking up on weekend mornings to my mom blasting her Carol King "Tapestry" album loudly, soft pink bandana tied around her head, cleaning or making breakfast with the windows open. I think of lawn mowers buzzing, laundry on the line, and planning a flower bed with mom. My favorite part was going to the nursery to pick out the plants. We almost always got marigolds, petunias, pansies, and snapdragons (my favorite!) I remember filling the back of her mini van with pallets of color and getting home to feel like after all the money we spent, there wasn't much to show for it.
At our new house we have a covered patio. After not having a yard of any kind for the last two years, I was pretty excited to fix up our patio this spring for a relaxing hang out spot to have coffee in the morning, read, and host BBQs with friends. So on Saturday I bought a few flowers to add some color to the space. The entire time I was thinking of my mom, especially when I got home and it didn't look like much. Now I can't wait to add some seating and make a few plant hangers. I wish she could come for another visit. Afterall, the scent of the orange marigolds smelled like her and took me right back to our tiny house on Parkview Ave. in Duncan, OK., eating shaved ice on the porch swing after a long day of pulling weeds and playing in the dirt. Those were the days.
