Never Say Never
The day I brought my first-born home from the hospital was one of the happiest of my life. We had just moved into our first house (yes the move happened when I was eight months pregnant and on a hot and humid June day), and I was beyond excited to play the new role of mother and homemaker.
The house was a dream, a hundred years old and bordering on a pretty river. We actually put the offer to purchase in sight unseen because our best man told us it was perfect for us. When we finally had a viewing we were glad we had trusted his judgment! We couldn’t believe our luck and I swore I would never need to move again.
The location was also near both our parents and some of our siblings which meant lots of support for the growing family. My mother-in-law in particular was amazing - a wonderful cook, baker, knitter - I still make her home-made bun recipe for every big family event. She used to take the kids fishing at a trout pond, then clean, fry up and serve the fish they had caught!
But the pièce de résistance for me was the garden, the one in my mind’s eye that is. Because when we moved in there were some yucca plants and not much else. I wanted flowers, all kinds of flowers, and I devoured gardening books by the dozens. Many happy hours were spend digging and planting and weeding.
The shady side of my city garden with alliums, hosta and other lamium.
We did move away from that idyllic home eventually - things change and life happens! But I am now fortunate to have a tiny city garden and best of all, children (all grown up of course) nearby.
