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Learning to Fall: time for bulbs.
I helped Momma plant bulbs today in her garden and in the window boxes Dad welded up out of scrap steel sheets and old cast iron gates that came from his daddy's home place. We mixed the soil in a wheel barrow and she told me that I was just the right amount of man she needed for the job. Momma told me that when I was little I used to try to put the bulbs in my mouth and that I had really been planting bulbs in the ground with her for all my life, including the time that I was a fetus living in her womb.
"Is that your belly?" I asked her, kinda embarassed not to know where a womb was especially with all that Sunday School talk about God putting baby Jesus in Mary's womb and all.
She took my hand and put it real low on her belly, looked at me and smiled, "It's right here, silly."
Momma was real sweet to me and let me help her all day as we changed out the old, dry soil in the planters and potted the bulbs with their green tipped shoots pointing at the sun as she smoked cigarette after cigarette, lighting one from the other, and at five o'clock sharp, she made a pitcher of martinis with olives on tooth picks and drank them like a movie star while I mixed a fresh batch of dirt.
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