My Grandmother loved her flowers. Not only did she love flowers, she was a flower, picked from God's own flower garden. She always had her garden and yard planted with the most beautiful flowers you could imagine. She had flowers of every kind and color that bloomed all through the spring, summer and fall. I have planted a few flowers for my Grandmother here, and on other pages. I miss my Grandmother so much, she was a jewel.

Before first frost, she would take cuttings from some of her favorites to root and pot them to grow in the house until next spring when it was time to put them out again.

Grandma always told me, not to pick her pretty flowers, those are Grandma's pretty flowers and they are for everyone to enjoy.

There was a family that lived up the street from my Grandparent's house who had a boy that would always come down to play with me when we were at Grandma's house. I was quite little at the time, about four or five years old.

One day when we were out in the front yard, he went over to one of Grandma's flower beds and started picking flowers and throwing them down on the ground.....

I told him not to do that, Grandma wouldn't like that...he kept on picking them anyway.....I ran over to him and told him to stop that...he just looked at me and did it again..........

That's when I screamed at him

"You Don't Pick My Pretty Grandma's Flowers".

I often wonder to this day, nearly 60 years later, what ever became of that family, and the little boy, who liked picking Grandmother's Pretty Flowers.