Mom's Iris & Memories of Home

Mom's Iris have had a way of migrating to my gardens. When we lived in Randolph, she came in Oct 1970 to tend "us" when David was born. From somewhere in her gear, she produced a refrigerator crisper drawer full of iris roots. She had cleaned her flowerbeds and was sharing. I was glad!! ... But we need to remember that Dave was born the week before Halloween, long after Indian summer had left that frigid corner of Utah ... and so one evening I looked out the south windows, and there was Mom kneeling on the sidewalk, planting iris with rainwater dripping down her neck!

Fast forward to 1973 or so . . . we now have our own house . . . and a flowerbed in front . . . and another baby. Here comes Grammie to take care of us, bless her . . . with iris in tow. One of my favorite photos is of David (about 7 at the time of the picture) with Baby Joe on his lap, looking at our wonderful iris blooms.

I love iris!! They remind me of Mom because she always had them. I always thought they were a regal flower, prettier than orchids even. I am told that not all iris have a perfume to them, just the old ones . . . like Mom's!

I went out the front door the other day, and called back to Wayne, "Something smells good out here!" ... Some of that was iris, but mostly, our black locust

trees are in bloom with that wonderful heady perfume they have. They remind me of early summer, my birthday and home, and being a kid.

So . . . I have been revelling in an At-Home Experience this last week or so, waiting to get the right pictures and enjoying perfumes of long ago.

Thanks Mom!

Top picture: Our wonderful front iris bed, backlit by the afternoon sun.

The poppies came from our next door neighbor years ago. She is gone now, but the poppies are spectacular every spring and gone by June.