Today I was helping my Gran move in to her new house. In their mid-70s, my grandparents are downsizing significantly & have had to wade through years of sentimentality as they practically packed as few boxes as possible.
After spending most of their lives in Rhodesia/Zimbabwe, this 1 bedroom Kenilworth semi with not an inch of grass is quite something to make sense of I’m sure. We cheerfully walked the length of the paved outdoor strip; musing about how lovely the pot plants & window boxes will look once they’re in. How easy it will be to grow veggies in a pile of old tyres.
Her daughter gave me a love for window boxes & even when I have garden space there’s something about cheerful faces right at the edge of the room I can’t get enough of. My dear Gran passed many useful & precious things down to me as she moved, & today I’ve been going through some old papers. I came across a poem that made me smile happy tears. Her young daughter’s love for window boxes from 40 years ago.
starting on saturdays 
Dear Tessa-Jean,
I am a writer living in Camden, Maine in the United States. I’m working on a column for a new magazine, MAINE SENIORS, saluting the sensibilities and accomplishments of those over 55.
My column “THE OSPREY’S VIEW, features small artistic beauties, creations and experiences that enrich our lives. I was casting about on the Internet and found your post and lovely child’s poem.
I would like to use the poem, with attribution, of course, in my column.
Please reply as soon as possible.
Many thanks, Cathy Lickteig Makofski
http://www.cathylickteig.com
Hi Cathy,
I’d be happy for you to! SO sorry for my delayed reply – my phone & laptop were stolen on a road trip so haven’t been on here too much in recent weeks 😦