The girls have made their appearance - the lily of the valley have started popping up. These gloriously-delicate plants are descendants from my great-grandmother's garden by way of my mother's garden. I have them planted in the front garden beds, which are shaded most of the day by a big maple tree that hangs over my front stoop. One day I'd like a rocky, wooded part of the garden where I can let the girls go wild.
Mom-mom, my mother's grandmother, had a great big rambling bungalow with a wide front porch and a beautiful garden in back, meandering down to a little brook. I remember running back and forth over the brook bridge with my cousin during the summertimes we spent there. Whenever I move from this little rental house, these girls are going with me.