At first, she denied the dog was hers. But my husband Steve was sure it was her dog because the other Golden Retriever that had been at our house, a young pup, was right there in her yard. She finally admitted that the dog lying in our garage was her dog when Steve told her that the dog had not caused any trouble and we just wanted to help him get home. Showing Steve her arm, which was in a sling, she told him she was not allowed to drive and that her husband wasn’t home. Steve told her that wasn’t a problem, that he’d drive the dog to her house now that he knew whose dog it was. Continue reading
When I was about six years old I found a trumpet-shaped white flower with a purple center growing alongside the dirt road that ran next to our home. I picked it and when I sniffed it, the petals collapsed around my nose. I soon realized that the flower would stay on my nose without use of my hands as long as I kept inhaling and since I thought that was hilarious, I kept doing it over and over. Looking around as I stood there at the side of the dirt road, breathing in deeply to keep the flower stuck to my face, I saw hundreds of the same flowers. They were growing on vines that covered the other weeds and bushes; little bright white lights in a sea of green weeds. I picked a few and ran home to show them to my mother.
“It’s Morning Glory,” she said.
“Yes, Morning Glory,” she said.
I was amazed; a flower with my name, a Morning Lorrie! I had never heard of a flower called Lorrie before. Sure, we had geraniums, we had petunias – we even had a few marigolds – but I was the only Lorrie around. I told my mother that I thought that we should plant Morning Lorrie’s in our yard.
“Hmm….I don’t know about that,” she said, most people think Morning Glories are weeds.”
“I think they’re pretty. What Lorrie are they named for?”
“What famous Lorrie are they named for?” I asked.
My mother started laughing. “No, not Morning Lorries. Morning Glories.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said, Morning Lorries.”
“No, not Lorries, Glories, with a ga sound.”
“Yes, Morning Glories.”
Fall has come to Pennsylvania and my flower garden is almost spent. But last week my garden surprised me with one last hurrah – some volunteer pink Morning Glories appeared, daring to take on the fall weather. Although I haven’t planted Morning Glories in a few years, those that did grow a few years ago must have dropped some seeds that were still there, just waiting for their turn in the sun. Morning Lorries….they still make me smile and they still stick to my nose like a suction cup when I hold them to my nose and breathe in.
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A few years after we bought the house we currently live in we dug flower beds. And so it was that I found myself one hot July evening planting 104 day lilies that my friend Bob had given me. He bred the day lilies himself and although I thought them all beautiful, they did not meet his standards. So I was the fortunate recipient of his lovely “mistakes”. It was hot dirty work in ground that was not the best; full of rocks and clay. But I was determined to get all of the flowers Bob had given me planted over the course of the next two days. Continue reading