Trixie the cat


When I was a child, everyone in our family was assigned a chore or chores.  As the youngest, one of my jobs was to keep the garden free of weeds and such, which included the spaces in the sidewalk surrounding the house and leading to a garden in back.

Mother said that the trouble lies beneath where the roots grow to eventually overcome the concrete causing it to crack if they weren’t removed in time.  The possibility amazed me and I became attentive to the fact and aware of anything that seemed to fit Mother’s claim.

Just as she said, from weeds growing wherever the seed landed, our neighborhood had several cracked and broken sidewalks left eschew and at various angles.  Especially the street with only one large house that had been vacant for as long as I can remember.  My Grandmother avoided the treachery of walking there.

However perceived, I felt a small personal triumph for being responsible for something other than keeping my face and hands clean.  There were always weeds that needed pulling.  And they would re-appear, consistently and without fail.

As for the vacant old house around the corner, since the old man died, there was only green in place of the stone walk that led up to it.  I guess some people think it has always been that way.

~~~~~~ Truth is Beauty is Love ~~~~~~

In summer of 1957, I vacationed with my grandparents on their farm in Virginia.  Mother said little about the extraordinary experience that I was about to have.   Words fail to convey some things.

The story I would tell may be one of the most significant tasks that I would accomplish for my family, and myself.   

Two Little Girls by Charon Diane