Memorial Day

I was certain that this weekend would be perfect ... weather, alone time, and gardening. While digging up one of the garden beds, I thought how I was now digging dirt that was my mother's.

Let me explain. I live back at my childhood home and I can recall my mother's tenacious tending of this section of the garden. Her section was relegated to roses,asters and dahlias. The other gardens were the vegetable ones and tended by her father.

It was all nicely divvied up and she worked the soil, lavished hours upon her roses and deadheaded the flowering asters and dahlias (the ones not selected for the indoor arrangement). This activity was repeated year after year starting with the Memorial Day weekend.

There's a certain sense of completion to my contribution this weekend.