Saturday, May 26, 2007

My Mother's Wisteria all thier glory; cascading, dripping, filling the air with their fragrance, and the hum of busy bees working over every flower.

My Mother's Wisteria. My father and mother have...had the greenest thumbs of anyone I have ever met. Where ever we lived, they left the ground and explosion of life. They did that in their professions too. Then my father, and her father, both died 10 years ago. Her brother a few after that. She's pretty much alone. And as health issues have left her crippled and nearly blind and retired at far too early an age, she is having to sell her home in order to consolidate her funds. This means leaving the property where she shared her life with my dad, and raised my sister, myself and most of our friends. This will be her last year with the Wisteria, the pond and the birds that call her yard their home.

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