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I am sitting on my front porch, looking up and down the street at all the flowering trees in bloom. It takes me back to Selfridge St. and such fond memories.
The month of May has got to be the prettiest one in the year, but then they all have their special qualities!
Bulbs, trees and shrubs blooming and chasing away the winter and it’s cold gray days!
I loved our back yard. Cherry, plum, peach and pear trees full of blossoms.. then the berries bloomed, the soil turned and the new sprouts sticking their heads out. Promises of things to come.
I watched the cherry trees. They were my favorite. When the fruit would come my grandpop would lift me up to pick the cherries. I liked them all! We had several different varieties. They would be canned, dried and baked into to delicious pies!!
I could look up at the mountain and see the trees blooming there also. That mountain was alive! How I loved walking up there with my grandfather and picking all the blossoms and bringing them home to grammy and her putting them on the May alter for the Blessed Mother. Her alter always was beautiful. She would put a crocheted scarf that she made to fit the shelf. Gammy could crochet. That was her relaxation in the evenings and also made her a few extra dollars!
Walking in our neighborhood was an experience. To see the different flowers and the way people dug their gardens. Everything neat as a pin. I bet if you looked down on it, it would look like a patch work quilt. Everyone took so much pride in their homes and gardens. By this time of course all the windows were sparkling and curtains startched and everything just looked perfect!!
You didn’t see any dirt in our neighborhood. The people even kept the front porches, stoops, sidewalks and gutters clean, along with the streets.
Oh for those days of pride again and sharing the cleaning up. The hoses running, brooms going and when one neighbor was done they helped the other.
Today.. go figure.. I do mine and the heck with you!
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