[Pat writes: I am on the coast of Maine, and surrounded by wild flowers of all types and colors, so wanted to give you this story of Mom’s to enjoy!]
One of the memories of childhood that is strong is that of each spring, going to gather wildflowers in a woods. Lloyd had grown up doing so in the woods on their farm. He knew them all—trillium, bloodroot, hepatica, Jack in the Pulpit, dog lily, arbutus—he knew which to pick and which to leave and always where to go. We did this often through the years, a ritual, sometimes with a picnic.
We had many family picnics, too, often with Ethel’s good boiled beans with salt pork, on which you put a few drops of vinegar. I remember sharing many a plate of them with Doris, just flatten them out, score the plate FAIRLY down the middle with a knife and eat your side (and fart away, as Doris would say!). And, speaking of picnics, this was BEFORE paper plates! We took china and washed ‘em later.
Another thing that Lloyd was strong on was Sunday drives. He loved to fill the car and take off, driving through the countryside. He and Mom were both great readers, and Lloyd especially liked history. We NEVER passed a state historical marker without stopping, getting out, and reading it before we packed ourselves into the car again and drove on.
Picture One: Trillium
Picture Two: Bloodroot
Picture Three: Hepatica
Picture Four: Arbutus
Picture Five: Jack in the Pulpit