Last week I picked rhubarb that was almost as tall as I was!
Alaska doesn't have much over on Colorado this year!
Up in Alaska last year, I saw rhubarb that was waist high.
The trouble is, it isn't just rhubarb that is growing tall.
It's my littlest daughter.
The other day she was cleaning her room and decided to throw away a bunch of old hair bands that were too small and not the kind she likes anymore.
When she saw me taking a picture of them in the wastebasket, you can imagine what she was thinking!
"Mom's going a little crazy, you know."
Mom's a little burnt right now, like the blackened stumps in the burn scar of Black Forest not far away, right?
Actually, I was just feeling nostalgic for one small moment, about my little ones all grown up now.
And I explained that to her, while staring into the wastebasket!
Gone are the days when little children got all excited over ladybugs, teaching their mom to value
simple things,
little things,,
God-created things.
Hard to believe, I've gotten through 26 years of raising babies and toddlers and youngsters and school children and teenagers. They all survived, and even thrived, I think.
Now they are old enough that I can occasionally take part of a day to jump into the truck with Jonathan and go see the house he is building over in Black Forest, where a house burned down several years ago in the forest fire.
...like the new bluebells all growing so pretty near the blackened stumps.
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