Welcome back to Romance Writers Weekly!!! This week since it’s St. Patty’s Day Betty Bolte http://www.bettybolte.com/blog.htm would like us to tell you how we celebrate our day or how we’d like to.
For the last seven years there’s only been one way for our family to celebrate today, J With a birthday party!!! Today, is this grandma’s little Irish Rose, my little ‘garden weed’s” as she likes to be called, birthday.
There’s a story behind the reason she likes to be called my garden weed and of course I will take the opportunity today to tell you about the day this began.
One school break last year I rented the movie, The Odd Life of Timothy Green for her and her brother. One thing you must know about me, I have planted a garden for every year this young lady has been alive. She also has helped me plant, weed, and harvest every year. Her first year, she would eat the veggies out of the wooden bowl I used to harvest them as fast as I put them in the bowl.
I really wasn’t sure she liked the movie or even paid much attention to it, as she would rather do pretty much anything other than watch tv when she’s at grandma’s house. So imagine my surprise when she popped off with a question about a month later.
“Grandma, did you grow me in your garden?”
I looked at her rather strangely, because frankly I had completely spaced the movie and all it was about.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“You know, did you grow me in your garden like Timothy? Timothy Green from the movie.”
A lightbulb surely popped up over my head at this point, as dawning fell over me and of course being the grandmother I am, I quickly came up with an idea.
“Well of course I grew you in my garden,” I said, “You’re my little garden weed.”
A huge smile crossed her lips, “Just like Timothy. So why don’t I have leaves on my legs?”
“Well,” I proceed to tell her. “You did have leaves on your legs when I first pulled you out of the mud, but one by one, just like Timothy, yours fell off.”
“So why am I still here? He had to leave once all his leaves fell off.”
Darn, trapped in my own lie, but being a quick thinker, I came up with a solution. “Well, you see, we loved you so much that the powers that be allowed you to remain with us, for you to always be my little garden weed.”
“So I don’t have to have leaves on my legs anymore?”
“Well, of course not,” I said. “You my dear met every aspect of life we wrote down on those little pieces of paper to grow you and now you’re free from the leaves on your legs and can be ours forever.”
To this day, she enjoys being called my little garden weed, especially in the gardening months when our garden is being prepared and growing.
This year we celebrated her birthday with a Mad Hatter’s Tea Party. What could be more appropriate for a grandma’s garden weed?!?
There’s a story behind the reason she likes to be called my garden weed and of course I will take the opportunity today to tell you about the day this began.
One school break last year I rented the movie, The Odd Life of Timothy Green for her and her brother. One thing you must know about me, I have planted a garden for every year this young lady has been alive. She also has helped me plant, weed, and harvest every year. Her first year, she would eat the veggies out of the wooden bowl I used to harvest them as fast as I put them in the bowl.
I really wasn’t sure she liked the movie or even paid much attention to it, as she would rather do pretty much anything other than watch tv when she’s at grandma’s house. So imagine my surprise when she popped off with a question about a month later.
“Grandma, did you grow me in your garden?”
I looked at her rather strangely, because frankly I had completely spaced the movie and all it was about.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“You know, did you grow me in your garden like Timothy? Timothy Green from the movie.”
A lightbulb surely popped up over my head at this point, as dawning fell over me and of course being the grandmother I am, I quickly came up with an idea.
“Well of course I grew you in my garden,” I said, “You’re my little garden weed.”
A huge smile crossed her lips, “Just like Timothy. So why don’t I have leaves on my legs?”
“Well,” I proceed to tell her. “You did have leaves on your legs when I first pulled you out of the mud, but one by one, just like Timothy, yours fell off.”
“So why am I still here? He had to leave once all his leaves fell off.”
Darn, trapped in my own lie, but being a quick thinker, I came up with a solution. “Well, you see, we loved you so much that the powers that be allowed you to remain with us, for you to always be my little garden weed.”
“So I don’t have to have leaves on my legs anymore?”
“Well, of course not,” I said. “You my dear met every aspect of life we wrote down on those little pieces of paper to grow you and now you’re free from the leaves on your legs and can be ours forever.”
To this day, she enjoys being called my little garden weed, especially in the gardening months when our garden is being prepared and growing.
This year we celebrated her birthday with a Mad Hatter’s Tea Party. What could be more appropriate for a grandma’s garden weed?!?
Now let’s head off to see how Carolyn Spear has answered today’s question, shall we???
http://www.carolynspearromance.com/blog
http://www.carolynspearromance.com/blog