She was born in the year “1892(?)” according to the Social Security people. She was legally blind and lived next door to his grandmother. All Miss Etta had was her house and her garden. He never understood why she grew her own potatoes until he grew his own…buried treasures.
In pulling some stray weeds from the French lavender this morning, I released some of their fragrance into the damp, cool morning air. Although they have not yet bloomed, I now have their promise that they will. They say that in France there are fields of lavender stretching almost endlessly.
It was just after four. Rumblings of thunder may have nudged me awake. A flash of lightning definitely bolted me out of bed. I quickly tied my garden shoes, looked up to remind myself about why I do all of this, then hurried outside to cover my heirloom tomato seedlings.
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