Sunflowers from the grocery store. I sprinkled a jar full of seeds throughout the backyard a month ago. As the Mama said about things she planted, "If they grow, they grow."
Tiny roses from the roses that the Mama planted in the box I built many years ago and which I demolished on Friday. I should've either reinforced the box or removed the plants and potted them elsewhere for the Mama. Something I thought every time I watered the box the last few years.
Bougainvillea and jasmine from the out-of-control vines in the front yard. The Mama would've been pleased to see the jasmine in full bloom, but also would've sighed that the vines had taken over. And, now, it's up to me to figure what to do.
"What are you writing?" asked the Husband, looking up from the newspaper. The remains of our lunch sprawled on the kitchen table.
A few minutes later, I looked across the flowers on the table at the Husband and said, "I want to make a table runner."
"What's a table runner?" the Husband asked.
"I'll have to take out the sewing machine. But first I'll need to fine a place where I can set it up permanently, but every space in this house is taken."
"What's a table runner?"
"A piece of cloth that runs down the center of the table," I said, sweeping my arm down the center of the table.
"What's its purpose? To put things on?"
"Something like that." I really don't know.
Maybe I don't really want to make one.
The trio of vases full of sunflowers, roses, bougainvillea, and jasmine sit in a row down the center of the kitchen table.