I hadn’t seen the stars in untold time.
My screen painted in peanut butter. I can’t tell. Is that in focus?
“That’s pokey, mama. Don’t touch it. You’ll get hurt.”
Ah, no, bug. It only looks pokey. Touch it. It’s ok.
“That’s a weed, mama?”
No, honey. That’s corn.
“That’s not corn, mama. That’s grass.”
“I planted beads, mama! Patios and I planted lots of beads for you for them to grow.”
“Those aren’t my ‘matoes, mama. My ‘ ‘matoes are at school.”
…
“I want to take pictures, mama.”
plumdirt 
Children and life’s awakenings– the same beautiful energy!
It’s no wonder that when the kiddos require extra attention, the garden misses out. It all pulls from the same place.
Lovely. Just lovely. I miss when the kids would garden with me. Sadly, no more now.
I can only imagine. I’ll miss it terribly when it’s gone.