She used to be young.
Her much loved 'state' plates.
We ALWAYS knew where the scissors were.
Right in this cabinet.
And they always smelled good.
How in the world did my mom make every day scissors smell good?
If there was a flat surface, it deserved a doily.
If there was a pillow, there was a home-made case for it.
CLOTH table cloths, pretty pot-holders.
She has stuff from when I was a kid that she still uses.
It's because she took care of things.
She was actually very gentle on everything.
She sent this home with me.
We've had these cactus ever since I can remember.
In some kind of pot.
Kansas winters mean she has to bring her plants in....
she said she couldn't carry this one in anymore.
It was too heavy.
A stool full of hen and chicks.
She now owns a new-fangled camera.
I hope she enjoys it.
I love you mom.
Hundreds of stars in the pretty sky,
Hundreds of shells on the shore together,
Hundreds of birds that go singing by,
Hundreds of birds in the sunny weather.
Hundreds of dew-drops to greet the dawn,
Hundreds of bees in the purple clover,
Hundreds of butterflies on the lawn,
But only one Mother the wide world over.