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Monday, April 25, 2011

DAUGHTER, SISTER, WIFE, MOTHER, CHRISTIAN, SAILOR, GRANDMOTHER AND GREAT GRANDMA, GARDENER, ARTIST ..... WIDOW

SPRING is springing up all over.

                                   These flowers are planted in "Aunt Irene's Garden". 
 We scattered Aunt Irene's ashes in a sunny section of our garden. 
.......................................................
Spring, 2011, is peeking at me, taunting and teasing through snow drifts
stubbornly clinging to shady places.
Time to get my garden tools from the
greenhouse,
organize planting trays and seeds .
mmmmmmm,
reminds me of gardens past ........

"Aunt Irene's Garden"
.....................................
                               Eldon's Uncle Ben and Aunt La Verne's ashes are scattered at The Pine Tree
 beside the spring creek at the far end of our property.
                              Merle and Doug, their sons, slowly trudged down the hill and out of our sight ....
                                                                        destination
                                                                      The Pine Tree.

We'll return to The Pine Tree
............................
                                        

My spring straw hat is hanging next to Eldon's cap on hooks alongside his Carhart jacket and my white garden shirt. I hug his jacket until Spring when I unwrap my sleeves from his and begin gardening for the season.
I wear his jacket  every now and then .... bringing memories of when  he wore it when it was new ... hoeing and weeding, planting and pruning the first gardens at our little Red House on the Hill.
The barn in Winter ..... it's a picture post card!
 Eldon built this barn, shop and corral.
I love pictures of the barn in winter. 
The stack of firewood in the snow scene is covered in winter white.
  I gave him a half a cord of wood four years ago for his Christmas present.
 I couldn't find a ribbon long enough to wrap around the stack of wood.

He burnt the wood in a steel stove built by a friend.
See the smokestack ..... picture it billowing smoke,
 curling up and away from the roaring wood stove in the shop.

Our hay stack is actually piled neatly in the barn for "Shadow"
his free Appaloosa, nine year old, never-ridden mare.
"But she'd have beautiful foals," he said trying to convince me we NEEDED an old, never-ridden horse to keep the grass low on our 10.6 acre "final anchorage."
 "Anclado Final." (Final Anchorage)
He spelled it on the sign "Anclado Fenal"
He named our little ranchita, although spelling it's Spanish name incorrectly because "that's the way it sounds!"
I told him the name sounded like a cemetary for Mexican Fishermen!
......................................
How did we end up,
in the Social Security era of our lives,
 living in the little red house at the top of the hill?
..........................
In the beginning of my blog I mentioned knowing who I was before he died
but hesitant not knowing who I am becoming .... so many memories in between.
You never know when a memory will pop up and grab your attention...
and they never seem to come in chronological order.
.....................
Thank you for following me on this journey...
knowing you're there
gives me
hope for my future.