Family History

I've always had it in the back of my head that when I retire I would write a generations novel set in mid-Michigan. One of my reasons for wanting to move to the farm was to soak up atmosphere. That has worked out well, as living daily in a homestead set up 99-years-ago raises questions and provokes thoughts about the past. I can never tell what the trigger might be. For example, my mom checks out my flickr pictures. She really likes this lily one. I explained where I had taken the shot: down the road near the big old oak tree, as I was walking back from the woods.

I could hear her smiling over the telephone. "Those have been there for the longest time," she said. "My folks used to let me walk down there and pick some when we visited Grandma and Grandpa."

When I write that novel, I'm sure there will be a scene with a lonely child walking down to a halfway point between her grandparents and great-grandparents, picking a bouquet of lilies.