I stepped out the back door with my two-year-old granddaughter to see the "plants". Oh no! The long drought coupled with my neglect had killed just about everything but the collard greens and the unflappable lilies of the Nile. The recent rains had added a bumper crop of some kind of wild clover and a few other assorted weeds.

My granddaughter went right away to her sand table and started to play as the sun came from behind a cloud. We could hear a bird singing somewhere as my granddaughter then became fascinated by three bees collecting nectar from  the little yellow clover flowers.

I turned slightly so that the sun could warm my shoulders and back just in time to see Hubby's caregiver wheeling him out to catch a few rays and he was not even making a fuss. They wasted no time falling right to sleep as they soaked up their vitamin D. Helping my granddaughter pull her tricycle out, I heard her sweet little voice say, "I really like your garden, Grandmommy." "I really love you, Granddarling."

Remembrance

If I could save a remembrance in a small mason jar

I'd put this one on a high shelf.

And when I was sad and needed to feel glad

I'd spread some on bread for myself.