No Place Like Home

I spent the bulk of last week in SoCal, settling my dad back in his home.  Long story, and we're not at the end.  We're trying Home Instead, which appears to be an answer to prayer.  If only he would stay home to let them in to help around the house.  (He tends to go AWOL.)  I spent hours clearing out cake mixes from 1999, and tons of bug habitat.  I left it just begun, and am hopeful that they will be allowed in today, to finish the job.  ugh.

The yard is not what I remember.

The drought has taken its toll, and there are 70' pine trees that are absolutely and completely dead.  The oleanders lining the driveway?  Mostly dead.  The tangelo trees, my mother's pride and joy?  95% dead.  An acre of dead and dying 50+ year old trees, covered with spectacular new growth of bright green weeds, etc.  It is tragically beautiful.

While there, I spotted a needlepoint "tapestry" that I made for my mom in the early 70's.  I wrote the essay when I was in 7th grade.  She loved it so much, I ended up doing the needlepoint during the hours (and hours and hours) that I spent babysitting while in high school.

My dad sent it home with me, and it is now hanging in the guest room.  Lots of memories are held within that picture frame.  The teacher had a poster on his wall.  It was a black and white photo of a young dad with a toddler on his shoulders.  They were walking down a country lane in autumn, under a canopy of trees.  The caption on the poster was "Take Time."  Mr. Milne, our teacher, said, "Write an essay, using the poster as a prompt."  And so I did.

February's goal has been met.  I got my entries submitted to Best of the Valley 2017 by yesterday's deadline.  whew!!

And I guess that's it for now...