Those were the days.

From Mom's scrapbook...

The envelope is postmarked December 23, 1943. Stamps totaled 3 cents. A stamp reading "Buy War Savings Bonds and Stamps" is over the stamps. The return address is Keller-Zandler, Inc., 814 Canal St., New Orleans, LA. 

The letter reads:

Dear Miss Arceneaux:

We read with great interest the announcement of your wedding plans, and we would like to be among the first to wish you happiness.

At the same time, may we suggest that you drop in to see us while you are trousseau shopping? You will find here the smartest clothes in the South, the most wickedly feminine lingerie and negligees, and the most becoming hats as well as the most distractingly lovely bridal veils. And our Footwear Shop has shoes for every costume for any honeymoon. 

Do come in and see these lovely things. It will be a pleasure to serve you.

Sincerely yours,

Retta  (I can't make out the last name - maybe Grace?)

Wouldn't it be lovely to have personal service like this now? 

***

Not much but gardening going on here these days.

Oh. And getting ready for our cruise.

Shalom.

Spring fever.

Slowly assimilating the things that I brought home from Mom's. It sweetens the heart to find her handwritten notes.

Emmy is a great granddaughter. Grown and with a child of her own, this note was written by my mother in the summer of 1992 at Dauphin Island. 

The middle section of our salad table still has some lettuce that needs harvesting. Soon, and very soon.

It also holds one cherry tomato plant and the side sections each contain two zucchini plants. 

They are blooming already. 

The pot in the foreground holds a roma tomato. The hay bales are all big boy tomato variety with one exception. One of our plants died so we replaced it with a cherokee purple heirloom variety.

The raised bed is growing banana peppers, sweet peppers, about three zucchini, and green onion. 

This morning we planted two white eggplant and four purple eggplant in our front bed. The purple are the long skinny kind ( I've forgotten the name of the variety.)

My zinnia seeds are happy in the back bed. Some of these will probably get transplanted to the sunnier location of my butterfly garden. 

My butterfly garden. The fennel is doing marvelously well. The milkweed is already blooming. The perennial salvia looks healthy. The lantana is making a comeback. Zinnia seeds are sprouting. The mexican sunflowers haven't shown up, yet. May have to replant. 

I am happy to report that, after almost giving up, my moonflowers have germinated. So far, I have four that are growing in the starter pots. I've just got to find the right spot for them. 

I will title this photograph "Almost June" 

You know what I'm talking about!

All this and more are making me very happy with our yard right now. 

Though the front still has bare spots due to tree removal last year, there are runners and hope for coverage some day. Macho has even spread some bermuda seeds in the bare spots this very week.

The green things are good for the soul. 

Shalom.

Moving forward....W

So. Back to the coast to pick up things from Mom's house. 

Her house was basically empty. Except for the small piles of detritus that a few of us had yet to remove. We stayed with Sister from Virginia in her rental. 

Mom's flip flops stood sentinel by her back door. 

Not one of us wanted to be the one to remove her last pair of shoes from the house.

Eventually Sister Mimi took one and I took the other and we threw them in the garbage.

And. It was difficult. Letting go.

 We took the WWII letters back to the house with us. They had been in one attic or another for 75 years. They were brittle and filled with roach poop. We spread towels over the table to keep from getting that all over. Then we began to read Mom's letters. 

They were so sweet. We laughed. And cried. 

Dad's letters were just as sweet. I was most interested in the August 1945 letters. That was when Dad was destined for Okinawa. He made it as far as Oahu, HI before the atom bomb was dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. His letters felt historical. They are. He even had a couple of things redacted by the censors. I was totally immersed in reading them. We didn't nearly read them all. It will takes weeks to read them. 

These letters were written by young parents. I didn't come along for eleven more years. They were newly wed and so in love. They were still passionate. 

I knew middle aged Mom and Dad. Settled Mom and Dad. Wise Mom and Dad. 

These two people were young and unsure of the future.

When we were loaded and ready to go I was torn. I wanted to take all the letters with me and lose myself in them looking for Mom and Dad. It was hard leaving them behind. 

We did leave. 

This week I am trying to get through the plastic tubs of memorabilia that I brought home. I've thrown some things away. I am giving others away. I am repurposing some things. 

And. I am moving forward. With good things behind me.

And good things ahead.

Shalom.