On a Friday- this Friday in particular I am sitting on my deck- it is still a bit chilly out and I have on my cozy sweater- it's hard to fathom that this time next week it will officially be summer- also it will be the last day of Pre-school- yikes. So here I am sitting on a Friday- this Friday- admiring the handy work of my girl- yesterday we planted some marigolds that she just had to have at the Farmer's Market- we are saving the seeds for next year! We also built a trellis for our peas- we are rather handy like that.
I think like her Great Grandma Shirley and her Momo- Miss Lo has a Green Thumb- she loves to help me out on the deck- planting and watering- she is always wanting to dig holes to plant her cherry pits or watermelon seeds in. This girly of mine needs a garden of her own- I just know she does!
While we worked I told her a story about my Great- Aunt Dorothy and the cherry trees that grew through her deck- my Aunt lived in the middle of the city- similar to us- but in a house on a fair sized lot- she had a giant garden and an even more giant cherry tree growing in her yard. Every July at cherry picking season our family would head into the city to help her pick the cherries- there was a ladder that seemed to go on forever and if you were lucky you were sent to the wood shed to grab another bucket- stepping into the musky dimness of the wood shed was to be transported to another place- it was magic.
The real magic of course happened after all the work had been done- when my Dad or Grandma re-emerged down the ladder from the leafy tree top- collapsing in the shade with an ice cold beer- I remember the stubby brown bottles. I remember my Grandpa sitting back in the wooden lawn chairs turning golden brown in the scorching Okanagan sun. I remember my Mom hanging pairs of cherries on my ears. My sister and I would sit on the deck- eating purloined, un-washed cherries straight from the buckets lined up on the back porch- spitting the seeds out onto the grass or between the wooden planks of the stairs.
Years later- when the cherry picking parties had ceased to exist but the relaxing in the shady yard had not we noticed that some how- some way- a few of those cherry pits that we had spit between the planks of the stairs had started to grow. They were growing right up through the stairs themselves- from the shady depths beneath the back porch these little volunteer cherry trees were trying to reach the heights of their Mother tree across the yard. This too was magic- the magic of seeds from an old tree- discarded by children- ignored for years until one day we noticed them poking through the floor boards.
This was the story I told my girly while we worked together planting our marigolds yesterday in our own little deck garden. She was amazed that this story could possibly be true- Poppa up a ladder? Un- washed fruit- eaten straight from the tree? What on earth is a wood shed? She was incredulous to say the least- maybe one day she will tell her own Littles about how we would try to grow a few things- way up on the eighth floor- in the middle of the city.
Friends it is Friday- our only plan this weekend is to celebrate The Mr. who has turned into the best sort of Dad I could ever hope for my children to have! I will also probably call my own Dad- unless he is busy talking to my Aunts on the phone- then who knows when I will get to wish him a Happy Father's Day! I hope wherever you are and whatever you are doing this weekend that you find peace, joy and a slice of sunshine!