Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Grannie's roses...


















dVerse


Haibun prose is composed of terse, descriptive paragraphs, written in the first person singular. The text unfolds in the present moment, as though the experience is occurring now rather than yesterday or some time ago. In keeping with the simplicity of the accompanying haiku, all excessive words should be pared down or deleted. Nothing must ever be overstated.

Haibun Monday - designated day for writing a short prose story, today of a childhood memory, good or bad. This I wrote last summer and thought it fit today's prompt over at dversepoets.com. The pics are from the small farm my grandparents had during the 40's and 50's in Underwood, WA. This is my great-grandmother, Blanche, born in 1877, who once was a nurse and married a Baptist minister when living in Pennsylvania.   

GRANNIE'S ROSES




My Grannie's garden boasts deep colored roses born of richly toiled soil. Their heirloom scents fill my nostrils. Reds, yellows and whites, shades of pink, orange, and mauve, we cut flowers for vases to put in the house. Some climb over the split rail fence where wind flaps dry pillowcases and sheets hanging from the laundry lines spread between two wooden poles. Crows perch there and loudly caw their song.

Her wrinkled hand touches my brunette hair, pushing back my bangs. She wipes my nose and kisses my cheek. After we pick peas for dinner, we fill a bucket with raspberries. Her arm around me we sit on the old porch swing; she reads while we rock. Sometimes we sit under the moonlight.

It was where I planted my first pansies, sweet peas and beans and stepped on an angry bumble bee. Grannie measured and marked my height by that of a lilac tree. She nurtured and mentored me in those early days as we washed and wrung clothes on the old washing machine. My dreams and ideas grew from there. No wonder I love to be in a rose garden.

A young Irish lass
grew from Grannie's rose garden,
herself now a rose


























17 comments:

  1. How sweet to see these pictures specially of your grandmother ~ Am envious of your growing up in the garden filled with roses, peas and raspberries ~ Your garden must be just as lovely and colorful too ~

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    1. Thanks, Grace; I did have a lovely garden at my last houses but here I am in a forest with deer who eat a lot of what I plant...she was my 'great' grandmother, passed in 1961

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  2. A lovely haibun and photographs and it is so nice to be around roses with heirloom scents :o)

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  3. Such lovely memories and what a garden!!

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  4. There are many roses in that garden. I like the idea of being measured using a lilac tree.

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  5. Sounds like your time with her really molded your early years. I have some similar memories of Lawrence, my great uncle and caring for him. They had a simpler life, of simpler things. A bit slower. More noticing of the world around them. A greater connection, I feel.

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    1. It was an era of innocence in many ways..thanks, Brian.

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  6. How fortunate you were to have spent time with your great grandmother. I love the photos of her and her incredible garden. Best of all is reading about your sweet relationship.

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  7. To be blessed with growing up among greenery and flowers is a great privilege. An experience rich in colors and healthy surroundings! What with Grandma by the side!

    Hank

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  8. Such beauty to learn of the simple garden. Somehow the detail with the bumblebee touched me most. Even in the best of gardens there are little dangers...

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  9. Oh, how I do hope my granddaughter remembers me with such love and affection. A beautiful write, Kathy.

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  10. Beautiful tender tribute to your gran! I also started out thinking of my grandmother for my haibun, but somehow something else came out. However, you inspire me to try again...

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All comments, constructive and otherwise, are welcome and appreciated here. Thank you to those who show an interest in my quirky style of writing, photography, painting, and presenting a feeling or thought and for stopping by A Dwelling by the Sea..