Favorite Nana Memories 1

During the summers when I was a little girl, my parents would send me away for a week with Nana and Papa. It was always such a treat for me. Of all the times I spent with them I can only remember once being homesick (a memory for writing later).

Because Nana and Papa owned a plant nursery (Kurtz Nurseries in Cottleville, MO), my summer weeks with them were spent outdoors. If we weren't planting flowers we were cutting them, if we weren't cutting them we were arranging them in vases, if we weren't arranging them in vases we were picking weeds. If we ate, we ate on the screened in porch outside. Sleeping was just about the only thing we did inside.

I was constantly surrounded in the outdoors with blooming flowers and my faithful Nana and Papa. Life was good.

I remember one day in particular. It was sunny and beautiful. My Papa was mowing the lawn while my Nana and I headed to the garden. There was so much to do, and I was all arms to help. She would be wearing her gardening apron with her garden shears held closely inside, perfect for cutting her beautiful blooming peonies for the dining room vase. Sometimes, if I was careful enough, she would let me carry a pair of shears myself. Usually, however, she kept it in her own apron and allowed me to use it when the time was right.

This day, however, she had other plans for me.

As soon as we got to the garden, she pointed out all the "ugly" flowers sprouting through the rich dirt. "These," she told me, "are the bad flowers. They try to kill the pretty ones."

"Oh no..." My childhood mind couldn't handle the thought of my favorite flower friends being killed by the vicious "mean" flowers (which I later found out were called "weeds.")

"Yes. So you know what we need to do with them Aimee girl?"

"What?" I was curious, broken-hearted. Anything! Anything I could do to save these precious gems I would do! (I think she was very aware of that fact).

"We can pick them!"

And so this is how my Nana successfully conned me at a young age to hand-pick each and every weed from her very large garden. I would discover later that these plants were weeds, and that by picking them for her that week I saved her a huge hassle of doing it herself.

Oh, how I love and miss my dear Nana.

1 comment:

lesley kay said...

such a sweet memory!

michael's dad likes to tell a story of how he talked michael into picking up a whole bunch of nails after they fixed their roof. he told him he'd pay him a penny a nail.... he ended up picking up way over 100 nails. luckily, michael wasn't old enough to realize his dad owed him $100. :)

memories are wonderful and i look forward to reading more!

Blogging tips