Tribute to an Allotment and a Loving Father

| December 7, 2014 | 2 Replies

Tribute to an allotment and a loving father is “Save the Last Dance for Me” by English writer Dallas Dyson at http://crazytraintotinkytown.com/. I connected with Dallas when I first published Late Bloomer Show as a blog in 2012, and though many of my first WordPress followers disappeared when I converted my blog to a full-service website, Dallas has remained steadfast, reading, reposting, tweeting. Her posts always make me think, laugh and sometimes shed a tear. This one did.

Click here: “Save the Last Dance for Me”

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did, and please…

Share with anyone

who’s ever loved a parent,

a garden, or

enjoyed their childhood,

or wished they’d done.

That about covers everyone.

Dallas wrote a series of posts about almost getting married, but when her fiancé gave her the slip at the alter, she took her best friend to Turkey to take advantage of the honeymoon, fell in love with a Turkish man and experienced a whole new world of adventure. Treat yourself to CrazyTraintoTinkyTown.

I sort of imagine that Dallas’s father is a bit like my dear neighbor Mr. Gerber, who was locally famous for his dahlias and also grew roses, green beans and grapes. We are all richer for our associations with those who are connected to nature and who appreciate the art of growing things. Do you have a special garden influencer in your life? Please share. Thanks for reading! – Kaye

Tribute to an Allotment and a Father - Dahlia

Dahlia from Mr. Gerber’s garden

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Category: Community, Garden Musings, Urban Gardening

Comments (2)

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  1. Sharon Carson says:

    I grew up with my immigrant german /swiss grand parents on a local small farm . My grandmother was the gardener while her husband worked the fields . I followed her around like a dog and listened to her tell stories of her childhood and yodel. She taught me to make saurkraut , cut hay for my horse with her sythe and longed for a pea seed from the old country which started my journey into saving seed. My grandfather built a granery the year I was born in 47 . That building is the only one left standing with the big letters 1947 still on the red door . The farm was split in 2 and sold when my mom got dementia, slowly sinking back into the earth like so many of the OLD school type of farm . Half of the farm is now a forest which makes me very happy! I hope it is never cut down . :)Sharon

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