Bet all of you have noticed the small blue blossoms along the interstate this summer and probably during summers before. This blue flower is called chicory. Hazel said the Indians once used it for tea, and maybe they still do…like the folks in New Orleans. But Mom would fuss when she tasted chicory in her coffee. Mom was serious about her coffee. Continue reading “Reflections on families and flowers”
Ellen Bottom stories
You can tell I did not spend time in the Ellen Bottom like my brothers did as I was growing up. The only memory I have of being there is of a time when David and I were very little, and Hazel was “baby sitting” us on an old quilt by the creek while the rest of the family worked in the corn (I think the crop was corn). I remember it was so hot even in the shade by the water. David and I played with the little fossils we found in the water and I thought they were little rocks that someone had found and drawn pictures of creatures on them. Continue reading “Ellen Bottom stories”