The mimosa, the tree of my childhood, is in bloom now. I love the fern like fronds, the fuzzy blooms, they take me back to when we had one in the front yard. It was next to a rosebush, and I have not so fond memories of riding my Western Flyer Bicycle down the hill by our house at full speed, the chain coming off, and me crashing between the rosebush and the mimosa tree, yelling at the top of my lungs for mom to come rescue me.
The wild blackberries are starting to get ripe as well. Of course I plucked the ripe one and ate it, that’s what old(er) country girls do.
I hope it is as lovely a day wherever you are this sunny Saturday. I’m going back outside, it’s too pretty to stay indoors…
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