If you ask the mama how old she is, she will usually say, "I'm 100 years old." And, depending on who you are, she might give you a smile or a look that tells you she thinks you're a moron. So, how old is the mama? She has told me not to tell. But I can say that the mama is 30-some years older than me, and I'm already considered a senior by AARP. Age does not slow the mama down. The weather does. First it was rain, now it's the chilly wind that keeps her from spending all day playing outside in her garden patches. I'm grateful for that. The cold weather, that is. It buys the husband and me time to figure out how to prep a smaller vegetable garden space without it being too obvious. Her vegetable garden, you see, is practically the whole back yard. When the husband and I first moved in with the mama, we made a point of staying out of her garden. It is her domain, her zen, her centering place. With each year, though, I've been casually going out there a b