In my mind, I'm five years old having a high old time wandering and wondering. In reality, I'm now in my late 60s, wowza! I tell you a lot of creativity is still to be found in this old young self. In you, too, whatever your age. Welcome to my barefoot world!
This has been a great summer for the Mama's backyard jungle. Trees, vines, and plants are producing like crazy. This is just a bit of the Mama's bounty—Sweet Asian pears, sunny sunflowers, and sour, but yummy lemons. Today, I'm participating in the photo meme, Monday Mellow Yellows , hosted by Gemma Wiseman. To check out other participants, please click here . P.S. ' Tis the month of the Mama and Molly the Cat.
Okay. It is a puddle of water on the patio cement floor. Water collects there when it rains or when the Mama waters her potted plants. Makes me wonder if the natural dip there may actually be over a spring. ' Tis the month of the Mama. P.S. I'm participating in Weekend Reflections . Click here to see the photos of other participants.
August is the month of the Mama. Meaning? I plan to share some Mama love and Mama-isms with you over the next 31 days. (Not every day, of course.) Here's the first Mama-ism. "Again," the Mama sighed. "What?" I asked in alarm, as I stopped nearly halfway up the stairs. I tried to peek over the balustrade (yes, the balustrade), but couldn't see anything. "What's wrong?" "Oh, nothing," she said from the living room. "It's Molly." "What's wrong with Molly?" "She's asleep. Again." The Husband and I have explained many times that cats sleep a lot. They sleep after they've eaten. They sleep after they've played long and hard. They sleep when it's hot. They sleep when it's cold. They sleep when they darn well feel like it. The Mama, however, does not accept it. Yet. As I continued climbing the stairs, I heard Mama say, "Are you a millionaire, Molly? Are you a mi