My big sis owns the home where my father grew up. It’s a thrill to wander around the backyard and to flashback to when grandma and grandpa lived there. The far rear of the back is especially memory-full. There is where grandpa kept his pigeon coop. And there are the remains of an old gate and a hodgepodge of fencing. I suspect it was originally a vegetable garden and was fenced to keep out the family dog. But who knows for sure?
This wee morning glories were climbing on the remnants of the old garden gate. I’m not much a fan of morning glory in my own garden, but seeing it in grandmas reminds me of sitting in the back porch late into the evening, eating watermelon with aunts & uncles & cousins, swinging on the clothesline, and playing lawn darts (always worried that one of the younger kids would get hit).
