Sweet sweet earth

Sometimes, when harvesting sweet potatoes, I miss one.

Usually, they rot through the winter.

Sometimes, they don’t.

If only they tasted nice at this size.

Thankfully, there were first-year neighbors underground.

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Grandmother’s garden

I’ve been about again. My grandpa passed last week on my mother’s birthday.

In all of the care my grandma gives to others, in all of the time she’s spent away, in all of her years her garden has shrunk to a bright spot by her doorstep, plants throughout the house, and loved-upon loved ones and not-long-strangers where ever she’s been.

I’ll need to learn to make popcorn balls. My kids had yet to have grandpa’s family-famous treat.

Shine, little lavender light.

I killed three plants three years in a row before trying these from seed. I spent four years practicing the seeds. This one spent three months in my laundry room and has been in the ground for over six months. I’ve never found a scraggly little flower so beautiful.

The neighbors have a patch that self-sows every year. That’s my hope for this little one… Provided it can stay hidden from my generous little give-mama-all-the-flowers-boy.