When our Lizzy was just a toddler she would magically appear on the front step with her hands behind her back. “Mommy…I have a surprise for you!”
What was hiding behind that back? Flowers. Always the most beautiful I had ever seen. Always individually chosen from whatever was blossoming in the yard.
In defense of the flowers we really didn’t want picked and to continue our baby’s gift giving joy, we aimed her to the violas and pansies. And we renamed them “Picking Flowers”. Our pansies were always the most beautiful on the block because they were kept so neatly picked. The bouquets on my windowsill were absolutely the prettiest ever. Always.
Fast forward.
This spring granddaughter (age 4), Papa and I choose an assortment of Picking Flowers to plant in our backyard planters. They are now full of blossoms.
Last night was the perfect early summer evening. Just the right temperature, delish barbequed ribs from Dorothy, the family on the deck enjoying a meal and each other.
How does one improve upon perfection? Let the picking begin. Two-year-old grandson and 4-year-old big sis began to do just what is supposed to be done with Picking Flowers. Pick them. They brought them one by one to the adults. One by one we all were adorned with Picking Flowers. Ladies wore them in our hair and tucked behind our ears. Daddy had his in the holes of his hat. Papa was a very good sport and allowed one stuck behind his ear. Grandson wore his IN his ears. (Good thing he picks the stems short.) Nana (95 years young!) was honored with two flowers in her hair.
I managed to snap two pics that pretty much sum up the happiness of the evening. If you ever wonder whether flowers bring smiles, just look at these lovely faces.
What was hiding behind that back? Flowers. Always the most beautiful I had ever seen. Always individually chosen from whatever was blossoming in the yard.
In defense of the flowers we really didn’t want picked and to continue our baby’s gift giving joy, we aimed her to the violas and pansies. And we renamed them “Picking Flowers”. Our pansies were always the most beautiful on the block because they were kept so neatly picked. The bouquets on my windowsill were absolutely the prettiest ever. Always.
Fast forward.
This spring granddaughter (age 4), Papa and I choose an assortment of Picking Flowers to plant in our backyard planters. They are now full of blossoms.
Last night was the perfect early summer evening. Just the right temperature, delish barbequed ribs from Dorothy, the family on the deck enjoying a meal and each other.
How does one improve upon perfection? Let the picking begin. Two-year-old grandson and 4-year-old big sis began to do just what is supposed to be done with Picking Flowers. Pick them. They brought them one by one to the adults. One by one we all were adorned with Picking Flowers. Ladies wore them in our hair and tucked behind our ears. Daddy had his in the holes of his hat. Papa was a very good sport and allowed one stuck behind his ear. Grandson wore his IN his ears. (Good thing he picks the stems short.) Nana (95 years young!) was honored with two flowers in her hair.
I managed to snap two pics that pretty much sum up the happiness of the evening. If you ever wonder whether flowers bring smiles, just look at these lovely faces.
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