Splash of Yellow

Earlier this spring, my son came home with flowers. Actually, they weren't just flowers, they were rose bushes. But they weren't intended for me, or anyone else. They were simply intended for our home.

When I asked him how he happened to think about buying rose bushes, he told me, "I don't know, I just wanted some yellow roses."

Needless to say that warmed my heart. Especially in light of the fact, that when he was little and as much as possible ever since, it has been our tradition every spring to buy flowers together for our home that would bloom throughout the summer.

Whether it was in our previous home or this one, we would take time to pick out just the right plants for pots and garden spots. We probably haven't done that together the last couple years, due to life changes and busy schedules. I've missed that little traditon, but when he came home with these two rose bushes, it was every bit as nice as it has been in the past.

Together we picked out the perfect spot for each of the bushes.  He wanted them in a spot outside the fenced yard, because our beautiful, loving, but sometimes destructive lab has eaten and destroyed any other rose bushes that we have had. Not sure why she picks on roses, but that is surely the case.

But anyway, we have sort of a farm theme going on around our house, so we decided we would strategically place the bushes somewhere that they would accent that. We placed our favorite one - the yellow bush - in front of the wagon wheel along the fence line of our front yard. The red/white mix bush we placed in front of the old dump rake that we have retired and now use only as decor.          

We have been babying the bushes this spring. He has taken care to make sure they have received enough water, and we have enjoyed watching them grow. They didn't even have many leaves on them when he bought them; but it didn't take long before soon they had little buds.

This morning when I walked out to get the paper, a splash of yellow caught my eye. The yellow rose bush had bloomed; it actually seemed it had bloomed overnight. And it is every bit as beautiful as we anticipated, although these photos don't do it justice.

I checked the other bush, too. It won't be long before we will be able to see how a red/white mix rose adds a splash of color to an old dump rake.

The Golden Chain

It took me a while to figure it out.  My sister got it right away.  I can still hear her words echoing through my head.

“You didn’t kill it; you just transplanted it,” she said trying to comfort me when it became apparent my Golden Chain would never bloom again.

The Tree Lives!

“But I won’t have my beautiful Golden Chain, anymore,” I had responded. I felt too bad about my dead tree that had lost all signs of life to comprehend what she was actually saying. And in all honesty, I really didn’t believe my folks would even be around to ever enjoy it, when we planted that little start in their yard.

The Golden Chain in our front yard was so beautiful every spring that I wanted to share it with someone else. There were several starts that had sprouted at the base, so I decided to dig those out and “spread the ‘beauty’ around”. I think we dug 3 or 4 starts, but I believe the one that we transplanted to my mom’s yard was the only one to actually survive.

That was a few years ago. It wasn’t until just this year when I saw the joy in my mom’s face that I understood what my little sis was saying.

“Did you see the tree?” my mom asked me with excitement all over her face. “It is covered in blooms!”

I hadn’t even noticed, only rushing in to do what needed to be done when I had stopped at their home that day. It was as I looked out the window at the little tree which had seemed to grow to full size overnight that I "got it".  There was the offshoot of my Golden Chain in full bloom in my folks’ yard. “Wow”, I thought to myself. “I can’t believe how fast that thing has grown!  I thought it would take forever.” Though I was certainly hoping so, I really had no idea it would grow to the height it has and bloom out to the extent it has in just those few years.

Seeing how happy my mom was about it, made me understand I really hadn’t killed my favorite tree; I simply gave it to someone else. Seeing her joy was worth it all.

A golden chain of love lives here.

 

A Piece of Old Fashioned

There is a spot in my yard, that makes me feel like I have stepped back into time. Lilac bushes and Quaking Aspen are planted there.  I am not the one that planted them. The bushes and trees were here when we bought the place.  The people we bought from were in their 80's; and often when I walk around the yard, I have thought to myself an older generation is revealed in the way the trees and flowers are planted.

I like it.  I have always wanted an old two-story farm house, complete with the yard that generally goes with that iconic home. I don't know; maybe the kind of house in which Timmy lived of the television show Lassie. Or maybe Dorothy's home in the Wizard of Oz.  ( That would be before the tornado hit.)  There is just a very definite feel about those old homes - so much strength and character. Almost like the walls and floors hold history that speaks directly and deeply into ones heart. Anyway, those old homes always had a certain type of yard, as well.  Big locust trees, and strong iron gates. Places for a kid to hide and perfect shade for aging adults.

I don't remember a time in my life that I didn't want a home like that.  It's obvious that I have passed the place in my life that I am ever going to get one....this side of Heaven, anyway.  ;-)  But that's ok; I love our home as it is. And I have that specific place in my yard which feels like a small gift from God - just because He's always known of my life-long desire. 

Every time I go to this spot - to mow, or to smell the Lilacs, or just to pause for a moment - I sense that feeling that I was striving for in my quest for the two-story farm house that I always wanted. It's my little piece of old-fashioned. A desire of my heart is fulfilled there. It is my favorite spot in the yard, as unlikely as that might seem. There is nothing to do there. No place to rest; no flower bed to weed. I have a bench picked out at the local farm store that will fit perfectly there so that I will one day be able to sit and read, or maybe just rest. The photo really doesn't do it justice; but imagine the sweet fragrance of flowering lilacs, and the shimmering leaves of the aspen quaking in the soft, summer breeze. Picture a Robin or a Flicker hiding at the top of the tree but rustling the leaves just enough that you know a bird is there and you will have a taste of my piece of old-fashioned.