I can hear the neighbor's lawn mower buzzing. Every few minutes, the police scanner breaks in with news about a fight, someone speeding, or some complaint that can't wait.
It's summery today, and I think the garden's going to get planted. At first I wanted a big garden, like mom used to have, then later, like hubby's dad's. He grew every bit as much as my mom did; well, maybe not. She grew eggplant and he didn't, but that's OK.
I wanted to have lettuce, cantalope, radishes, onions, tomatoes, potatoes, cucumbers, peppers. We're getting all of that except for the lettuce, cantalope and potatoes. And that's OK, too.
When the garden shows some growth, I'll post pics here. With food prices so high, it'll be nice to be able to go out and pick our own.
It doesn't have to be Memorial Day weekend to bring thoughts of those who aren't here. I miss my mom, friends who've gone ahead, Aunt Doris and Uncle Ray, my father-in-law, and I also miss friendships that have gone astray. More than anything, hubby and I miss our oldest son - we haven't heard from him in over 5 years. It's a heart-wrenching thing to live with, not knowing if your child is alive and well, or, well, not.
Here's hoping someone will read this and get the message out: we miss you, and want you to call home. The number's in the book.
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