I sat on my porch this morning drinking coffee and reading the “News in Brief” from the NYT. I glanced across the few feet of my porch and saw this tableau. The glass jar came from my mother’s house. Think of that: My mother died in 1985, and I brought this jar from her fruit cellar, filled with bread-and-butter pickles made by her hands. To its right in the little planter grows a volunteer. It sprouted more than a year ago and I’ve nurtured it ever since then. I have no idea what it is. The other plants came from Soil Service. They thrive here on my porch, lifting their leaves to the sun, drinking the water and Miracle-Gro with which I nourish them. My hands let the tablet fall idle. For a moment, I needed nothing more than the sight of these plants and the brave little cutting with its one tap root sprouting in my mother’s pickle jar.
It’s the twenty-seventh day of the thirtieth month of My Year Without Complaining.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BIG SISTER, ANN LUCILLE CORLEY FOX.