Ten-Finger Exercises

Cherry pink

I've been thinking all day about 'Mom' and her sundress. Somewhere there must be a picture of her in it for me to remember it so well. It was cotton, maybe sateen, with a white ground and floral pattern in reds and a little green. The bodice was soft, maybe gathered, and the straps were wide and gathered too. She didn't like her 'breadbasket' as she refered to her bosom, to show. She may have even used the plural, 'breadbaskets.'

She was always soft to hug. She had a wicker rocker by the window in her bedroom where she'd rock me and tell me stories. When we were at the lake cottage in Manitau and I was no more than five, she'd lie down and take a nap with me. She probably slept more often than I did. She would sometimes let me sit on her middle as she lay on the bed and tweeze her whiskers out. She must have been very patient to put up with a child doing that.

Today is a drab, cool spring day. My drive into town for work takes me through the orchards though, and they are all in some stage of bloom. The cherries came out first, and I marvelled at the fact that they are white, not pink as the song says. Well, today I noticed that they really were pink! I don't know why I couldn't see it beforfe. It's not as if I looked for the first time. In fact, I'd looked carefully just a few days ago when the apple trees were just beginning to blossom. Maybe they have to mature a little before the color begins to show. I'll have to wait till next year now to see.

Went to a funeral today, and it was about a 1 on my scale. The man had been fun-loving and joyful, and the 'brothers' who led his service spent the whole time quoting scripture about sin and Jesus becoming sin for us. Nothing was joyful about it to me except getting out of there. A number of the women, not the family though, had little lace doilies or veils on their heads. Haven't seen that in 30 years at least.