Porthole

A bouquet...

30DBC: "Share a story from your childhood when you did something you weren’t supposed to. Did you get caught?"

Of course I did!

Parents have multi-faceted eyes and ears on all sides of their head. My parents were no exception.

I don't think I did it trying not to get caught. I don't even know how old I was.

We lived on an oval so we could ride or walk around the block to our hearts content. Crossing the street was another issue, not strictly forbidden as we grew older, but still frowned on and therefore ill advised.

And I loved flowers.

We had very few in our factory-workers neighborhood. The ground was poor draining clay that held the snow melt until it dried out like a brick come June. People planted grass and a few trees that grew poorly. We lived next to abandoned strawberry fields and cattail marshes.

There were mostly young couples with children that all moved in at the same time. Many moved on but most were there for a generation. My family still is, 69 years later.

The Burns were a bit older and didn't have children. I didn't know them well. They didn't have much of a yard but they planted some flowers out front.

I relieved them of a couple.

I don't remember how this all worked out. But later, when I had my own gardens, I understood.

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