Every time that I see this photo, I want to sing
“I’m a little teapot, short and stout…..”.
A children’s song that my mother taught me.
Which I in turn sang with my children
and then with my grandchildren.
Now my children are adults
and my grands are almost there.
No one is singing “I’m a little teapot..”
Time passes too quickly.
Last, weekend, I was doing some autumn cleanup in my gardens
The Zinnias were faded and dying, so out they came
The Iris- long gone
Then I came to my patch of Marigolds
A blaze of yellow, blooming like crazy
They bloom in the scorching heat, they bloom in the Autumn chill.
Gorgeous blazing yellow blossoms, in the sun, and in the rain.
I decided, that if I were a flower, I would want to be a Marigold.
Blooming no matter what.
In the language of flowers
The Zinnia represents “in memory of an absent friend”
Can my grandma be considered a friend?
She was one of my most favorite people ever
She loved Zinnias
Her yard was full of them
I plant them in my yard
In memory of her
“I’ve been saying it so long to you, you just wouldn’t listen.
Every time you said ‘Farm Boy do this’ you thought I was answering ‘As you wish’
but that’s only because you were hearing wrong.
‘I love you’ was what it was, but you never heard.”
William Goldman, The Princess Bride
In the language of flowers, the Hosta represents devotion.
Devotion: Ardently dedicated and loyal
I love the word ardent- it seems so old fashioned but so aptly describes the intensity that can come with love for another
Ardently dedicated and loyal
My Savior’s love for me