Paper, Rock, Scissors…

April 6, 2016

Mama showed me and my brother how to make a paper cup to drink water when we were very young. Little things keep coming back reminding me that my mother is very much alive through my memories of her. I’m going to make several and give to my grandson, telling him who showed me and let him make some. This will be a way to impart family history and a practical skill as well.

Rock is almost a groundcover in the yard. Toward the back there is a large patch that you can see from my kitchen window. Spring cleaning under the side yard tree revealed assorted ones among the leaves as I diligently filled the bags. I’ve decided to stake a claim here under the shade, armed with my lawn chair, small table, and summer afternoon relaxing.

Scissors work just fine for trimming grass near the patio and against the house. I crouch like a child interested in a dandelion and give a haircut to the green blades. It smells of a scent that no store, theater, television, computer, or museum can truly duplicate. The breeze blowing and the robins inspecting my work help to create a picture perfect landscape of life…one that is real, one that I actually live.

 

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