My schedule was all off yesterday and between one thing and three little others I forgot to post this here. Sometimes I don’t cross post because I don’t think it’s really good. But this time, although you might think it’s not very good, I didn’t cross post because my mind slipped like it was on ice.
The farm in Ohio I grew up on had a pasture on the slope of a hill running down to a ravine.
The man-made pond was near the top of the hill.
In the winter when it was cold and the hill was covered with snow, we would drag the sleds up to the top of the hill.
Often Dad would build a bonfire as we’d sled down the hill.
In the right conditions, we could reach break neck speeds — at least break ankle speeds which my older brother did when he failed to stop before going into the ravine and dropping about 10 feet to the rocks below.
Those were happy times, and not just the winter when my brother did that — although as the victim of some of his more ruthless brotherliness that too was a happy story.
Sometimes we’d drink hot cocoa and roast marshmallows and hot dogs on sticks over the fire.
The best though was riding together on the toboggan. My brother in the front and the rest of the us behind.
Life races by too fast, but sometimes you got to stop and enjoy the hill.
That’s my happy story this evening. You might post anything you wish but please leave any brotherly fights outside.
About two weeks ago, I looked up from doing the dishes and spied one pink blossom on my Christmas cactus. And I smiled and thought, “A Carnacki!”
This blossom, now in it’s final stage, is attached to a branch of a Christmas cactus that came from my beloved Gram.
Fifteen years ago I called my Gram before leaving the country. It was my last conversation with her. She died while I was away.
As family went through all her things, they asked if there was anything in particular I wanted. Various items came to mind. Each had been claimed by another family member which was okay with me. They were things I was fond of, but didn’t need to have. I just didn’t want them shuffled off to an unknown destination.
I asked for the Christmas cactus that had been in Gram’s kitchen window all of my remembered life. It bloomed every December. This I received when I returned.
Now I enjoy houseplants, but I have only the kind that can survive on minimal attendance and care. I was very afraid of killing Gram’s cactus. But I didn’t.
However, it didn’t bloom for thirteen years. Two years ago, there was a profusion of blossoms. I have no idea why, just enjoyed them.
This past summer, the cactus began to die. I took the healthiest sprigs and stuck them in dirt, hoping they would grow. I didn’t pay much attention other than noting they were surviving.
About two weeks ago, I looked up from doing the dishes and spied one pink blossom on my Christmas cactus. And I smiled and thought, “A Carnacki!”
That is such a wonderful story, and it made me think of my grandmom, who always had African violets in her kitchen window when I was a kid. I have African violets in my kitchen window now, and they are descendants of one that my German great aunt gave to my mom 30 years ago.
“A Carnacki!” I love it. 😀
I read your diary on why you began these “Got a Happy Story?” diaries.
Thank you so much. Because you do these, I am paying attention to the positive experiences in my life – creating a life line.
What a beautiful story Tampopo :o)
My dear Grandma Mary who passed on last year somehow managed to grow a marijuana plant in her front window!!
Perhaps I should explain?
First, I’m still not sure how she got the seeds, but I am sure they came from me somehow. When I was a teenager, 14, 15, I didn’t care for spending time at home. Issues with the Mother ;o) So I would walk to Grandma’s apt. after school most days and spend my afternoon’s with her and her “companion” Leon, another fine soul who is gone now. I used his razor for my first shave if you could call it that ;o) Anyway she would always fix me something nifty to eat and she’d let me drive her car and cool stuff like that. As cool as a 1972 Toyota Corolla could be!
Grandma Mary was from County Mayo in Ireland and she possesed a bit of the Irish Fairie’s and Leprechaun’s innocence and playfulness. How she got the seeds from me I’ll never know but one day I noticed from outside her front window this little pot plant growing in a pot on the window sill. Oh my! Dear Grandma, in her innocence (I think ;o)), didn’t know it was illegal. She said she just thought it was a pretty little plant. Especially when it bloomed. Needless to say I explained to her that she could get into a bit of trouble and took it off her hands ;o).
That memory of her is so dear to me and says everything about her loveableness and childlike heart. What a beauty she was.
Oh Supersoling – what a hoot! I can only imagine your jaw dropping when you realized what Grandma Mary had in her FRONT window – too funny. 🙂
“Just a pretty little plant” — so you began early in your life protecting innocence.
Thanks for sharing your Grandma Mary.
In keeping with the winter theme, on a recent snowy day, my 7 year old and I found ourselves stuck at home. We went outside while it was still snowing and built the snow dinosaur in the photo below. He loved doing it and posed for the photo.