Positively Karen

Now and Then

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Spring, earth awakens from its winter slumber. My rose bushes are covered with petite unfurled leaves. Bulbs have burst, sending verdant stalks up three inches above the soil. Doves have built their nests (of sorts) and laid their eggs. One egg has already slipped through loosely woven twigs to land unbroken on the lawn. Baby calves frolic in greening Uniweep meadows… I often wonder how the cows sort out their calves from the multitude, but they seem to.

Spring….. memories nestled deep in my mind begin to stir. I find myself going forth down the lane of memory. When I was a little girl, Spring arrived with Mother’s order of one hundred fluffy, yellow, peeping chicks. Colorful cotton material sacks of cracked corn, wheat and oats were purchased from the Feed Store and stacked in the shed, next to the garage. When emptied, the sacks were laundered, material for blouses for my sisters and I.
By early April each year, Mother had her vegetable garden planted. When harvested in the fall, the quarts of corn, peas, green beans and tomatoes filled the shelves along the basement wall. The strawberries were made into jam and stored in the basement also.

Mother loved music. I remember hearing her hum. She hummed when planting her garden, when gathering eggs from full nests in the hen house, when watering hollyhocks, that would grow tall around our back door. Her older brother and his family lived in Nebraska and sometimes visited us for a weekend. That’s when music rocked our house.
They both played guitars but Mother also played the harmonica and piano. They sang, they yodeled. I still get misty eyed when I hear the old song “crusin down the river”. They sang the music of the deep woods country of Illinois where they were born. Deep woods, where Cardinals flitted among the great oak and maple trees and 5668993wild purple violets bloomed in the spring.

I miss her. At times I find myself longing to travel back in time to Springs far gone. That said, life’s journey continues forward, giving me more time to make fun happy memories for my grandchildren and their parents.

Wishing a very special Happy Mother’s Day to all the Mothers reading the Sunshine Express.  -k

 

pic1(Karen Schafer lives in and writes about life from Grand Junction, CO)

 

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