Well, today would be my mother's 113rd birthday if she were still walking among us. She'd be just a few years older than Mary McGowan. Anyway, it was a lovely day..."What is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days." Some poet wrote that...and if I weren't so lazy, I'd look it up. OK OK, I did...it was James Russell Lowell.
I saw a new bird today. Must be a warbler of some kind. Kind of like a white sparrow with a black cap (but not a black-capped chickadee). The bird songs here are practically symphonic. And I noticed that the trees by the metro tracks--the ones that have the beautiful white flowers in the spring--are locust trees. Nice to know. Mom taught me by her example to pay attention to the beauty around me. It was a gift that keeps on giving.
I planted a tomato tower in the back yard today. I'm taking bets on whether it actually will produce a tomato!