Sunday, November 21, 2010

Red Rose, Red Rose

This year I have red roses! I planted a climbing rose bush about 5 years ago. Every year there was a problem – too young – bugs got to the buds – animals destroyed it – always something til this year. The bush is covered with buds and blooming red roses. This gives me so much delight and satisfaction – I wonder why.
I remember that Mama always had red roses. She cut them for arrangements for the house. She made arrangements for just about every room in the house. It was one of her weekly jobs. We wore roses on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. The custom was to wear a red rose to church if your mother was alive – father was alive. You wore a white rose if your parent had died. My sister, brother and I wore red roses. Mama and Daddy wore white roses.
I think having red roses makes me feel like a proper woman. I didn’t know that I was missing red roses that much. I can only speculate now that I have red roses and I feel so smug. I feel like dancing around shouting – I have red roses – I have red roses – I have red roses!!
Of course everybody that comes to see me has to see my magnificent rose bush and then come inside and see the arrangement in a white milkglass bud vase. That certainly dates me. In the fifty’s white milkglass was quite the thing. Then it fell out of favor. I love the milkglass budvase with a red rose in it!! Exquisite!!
Other flowers remind me of special times, special events, special places, and special people. For whatever reason that special time was when I first really knew the flower. I may have seen it before but for whatever reason it had not registered. Now at this certain time and place I really see the flower. So the flower and that time are forever intertwined.
I see a patchwork quilt with a special flower in each square. There in the top corner is…………………….
Iris – Denton, Texas – garage apartment – I was pregnant with my first child – irises lined the sidewalk to the steps to our apartment.
Sweet Peas – grew on the garden fence between Aunt Keiffer and Cousin Mildred’s – grew in that red SC dirt and climbed the fence – such a sweet smell, that is what stayed with me all these years.
Weeping Willows – I planted them in a swampy backyard of the first house I ever owned. Now I ride down the street and see them towering over the house and point them out to my passenger and say “see my weeping willows”. I love that early spring chartreuse.
Violets – A purple carpet between our house and Laura Francis’ house. Mama anxiously awaited their blooms every spring.
Camellias – Jean always had them at her home on State Park Road. She would bring them in and float them in water in a bowl on the dining room table. Oh how she loves flowers. I think it runs in the family – Mama’s gift to us all.

Sometimes I am a weed -
I feel like a weed - I look like a weed - I am a weed
Sometimes I am a wildflower -
I feel free and easy - I think I look like I belong to nature - I am a wildflower
Sometimes I am a cultivated, civilized good looking flower like a rose
I feel successful, controlled, prepared - I think I look beautiful (like I should) -
I am a rose!!
Sometimes the way I look and feel pleases you and sometimes not!
Sometimes the way I look and feel pleases me and sometimes not!

Oh, I can't wait to tell my 89 year old Mama that I have red roses in my yard!!

Oh, the pleasures and memories that roese bring!!

Trey's World


My nephew is a talented and successful designer and builder of homes in the Arts & Crafts Style.  This day he was showing me and a few other family members his world.  First we saw his old studio and how his work was handled.  I was captivated by a table he had made.  He used an old saw - one his great grandfather had used on the farm.  He put a heavy glass top over it and added legs.  What a beautiful and unique table. That piece of furniture will be passed down through the generations, that’s for sure. 
Next we went to the new building he had just bought and he explained all of his grand plans for making this into his studio &there would even be rooms to rent out for other businesses.  Oh I’m impressed - not only does he dream but he makes them come true.  We drove by some other houses that he was building or remolding and then, the pies de resistance – a beautiful multi-million dollar home.  There had been a fire in it the last year and Trey was restoring it.  The grounds are  beautifully landscaped and manicured.  The house is made of brick, there is a porch, of course, and columns, a big bay window and it sits on a big lot. He let us in – and there was nothing to see – it was gutted.  In Trey’s mind, he could see all the changes that were happening and  even how it would look when finished.  He explained all the plans and what progress had been made and I tried to see all he planned.  He showed us beautiful solid oak sliding doors that were between the dining room and the living room.  “See how quietly and smoothly they slide.  Notice the doors, they have been shined and polished and now just glisten.”  Then he began to tell about the windows and the floor and what they were going to do here and there. I had trouble understanding all the work and many different processes that had to be done for the rooms to be a “thing of beauty
After examining the first floor, the group began going up the long stairs to examine the second floor.  I decided that was physically too much for me and stated that I would wait on the porch.  The porch had no furniture since nothing was finished here so I proceeded to the steps.  They had wide cement slabs on the side that provided a perfect bench.  I sat there completely comfortable and content examining the colorful gardens.
Shortly, two men turned into the property from the street and came toward the house.  I thought that they were just some people who saw people at the house and thought perhaps it was open and they could also have a closer look at the wonderful old home.  As they approached, one of the men asked me, “What are you doing?”  “Just sitting,” I said.  “Sitting doing what?” he persisted.  “Doing nothing,  “ I said. “Just nothing.” he said.  Well, I felt his aggressiveness and since I really thought it was none of his business, I answered in a bantering manner.  I put my hand on my hip, straightened up, tossed my head to one side and haughtily said, “I’m just posing.”  He looked at me in disbelief and then said, “Well, why don’t you go pose somewhere else?”  and he pointed toward the street. Well – I saw and felt that something was going on here and it wasn’t play.  So, I asked, “Why do you want to know?”  He promptly answered “I’m the owner.”  “Ohhh,” I said.  ” I’m Trey’s aunt and he’s upstairs showing some family members the inside of the house. “
Well, now since we knew the identity of each other – we stumbled all over ourselves apologizing.  It seems there had been some robberies here and he thought I might have something to do with what had happened or might happen.  Can you imagine this 75 year old lady is suspected of being a “look out” or “get away driver”?  Later, upon reflection, I really enjoy this concept!
He proceeded to tell me how wonderful Trey was and how beautiful the house was going to be.  I agreed with him and then he invited me back to the grand party he is planning when the restoring is finished.  I assured him I’d love to come and would if at all possible. 
When Trey and family returned to the porch I asked if I’d really upset the owner.  I explained that we had had a testy exchange of words before we realized who we were. Trey laughed and said the owner was embarrassed and that I was welcome to come any time I wanted.
As we finished our day in Trey’s world, my farewell comment was – “Trey, let me know when you’d like for me to come again and impress a client.  Good natured Trey, laughed and said, “Aunt Mary, whatever you do is fine with me.”
MBS 8/17/09