“Why don’t you make a little scrapbook of the flowers of your life?” a friend asked when I showed her one I’d made with photos of autumn leaves I’d taken and a poem I’d written.
“Flowers?” I asked.
“Yes,” she answered. “Make a scrapbook or journal of the flowers that have been important in your life.”
As I considered, I realized she had a good idea. I also realized that many flowers can be included in recipes, so why not print a few food ideas in this scrapbook/journal, too.
Mother’s Flower Journal
I then recalled that my mother once started a Flower Journal. She never completed it, but I found the journal when I moved her to my home several years ago.
She asked friends to write about their favorite flower. Cousin Ella and Cousin Ina made entries in it, as did the mother of one of my friends. Mother had a few other entries but didn’t carry it further.
Perhaps I could incorporate this with my Flower Journal and continue Mother’s idea.
Which Flowers?
Lilacs – The lilacs bloomed each spring beside Grandpa’s blacksmith shop. This building, I later learned, had been the original farmhouse on the property, before my father and grandfather purchased the farm. That would explain sprawling lilac bushes, white and lavender, growing on either side of the doorway.
Lily of the Valley – This grew in profusion and gave out a heady perfume in spring. It grew under the overhanging branches of the forsythia bush.
Roses – These small dark red roses I’ve never seen elsewhere. If I ever knew their name, I’ve not remembered it. They grew in the two small flower gardens in the large front lawn. Larger pink roses bloomed on taller bushes in one of the gardens.
Dahlias – Father liked these flowers and planted them around the porch and in the flower gardens. In his older years, he planted dahlias at the small retirement home he built across the road from the large farmhouse.
Crysanthemums – Mother said she carried these flowers in her wedding bouquet when she and Father married in November. She was found of them in all their autumn colors, so often Father planted them for her.
Violets – These grew in the meadows and along the brooks of our farm. What fun to pick them in the spring for bouquets on the kitchen table.
Dandelions – I recall the many saucers filled with water and dandelion heads that adorned the table, too. My younger brother brought these flowers to Mother. I once asked why she kept them. Mother pointed out that they were special because he picked them for her; it would hurt his feelings if she threw them out.
I recalled Mother’s words when my daughter and then grandchildren brought me flower heads as a special offering.
What are the flowers of your life? Why not journal and scrapbook about them? Or share your thoughts at me.allen@juno.com
(c)2006 Mary Emma Allen
