I may be turning into the Lupine Lady

It's a wonderful book, and if you have a little one, you should get it.

Back when Alison was small and we went home to visit our Maine family, she would make a beeline to the stack of books Grammie would have waiting in her bedroom. Some were stories Grammie had bought for Jeff, Jen and James. Others were more recent.

For several years, Ali's top three requests -- first to be read to her and later for her to read to someone or even to herself -- were The Color Kittens (A Little Golden Book), Leroy the Lobster and The Lupine Lady.

The Lupine Lady is about an old woman in Maine who, when she was a little girl, had told her sea captain grandfather that she wanted to be just like him: to travel the world and have adventures and then live beside the sea. He'd told her she could do all of that, but she had to do one more thing, as well.

 "There is one more thing you must do, you must do something to make the world more beautiful," the sea captain said.

Years later, she passes his admonition along to her young niece, who wants to be just like her.

The Lupine Lady, AKA Miss Rumphius, didn't do her last task right away, but once she'd begun, she kept at it. She scattered lupine seeds across Maine like Johnny Appleseed did with apple tree seeds across the Midwest. Which is how she earned her nickname, a reputation as possibly the craziest and oldest woman in the world, and credit for the  non-native flower's proliferation across The Pine Tree State.

Ali always teared up when we talked about how the lupines outlasted Miss Rumphius, but that she had left a beautiful legacy. We'd talk for a little while about what we would do to make the world more beautiful before the kittens, Blush and Hush, or Leroy and his friend, Crabby Crab, or other books caught her attention and we needed to check in with them.

All this to tell you that I came across some lupines for sale a week before Mothers' Day. I'd never seen them in Indiana, and I bought one. I suggested a couple more would be a nice gift for the holiday, thinking I might need more than one if I'm to get them to take hold.

Apparently I should have bought more when I was there because Jeff spent most of last Saturday scouring the flower and hardware stores across Hell's Half Acre for more. I didn't even ask him if he was checking for the elusive flowers at any craft beer or fancy liquor stores -- that's how good a wife I am...

Happily, he finally found some, and they're safely in the ground. They're tiny compared to the statuesque one I found, but we have all summer for the little ones to catch up.

I probably won't end my days living by the sea -- though I could totally be down for that. I haven't yet explored as much of the world as I want, but I have time for that, too. And I'd argue long and hard that by producing Ali, I have most definitely made the world more beautiful. Any other lasting, physical efforts will likely be in flower form.

The first lupine, a week before the irises bloomed.

 

In other news of late, Jeff and Ali and I took a walk around the neighborhood, something we haven't done as a trio in a while. We used to do it almost every evening in good weather. She brings a ball and we -- mostly her and Jeff -- play catch. I'm not as committed to the game as they are. And sometimes I carry wine.

They started their in-the-street game when Jeff had the crazy idea that she would love T-ball and he could help develop her arm. She didn't fall in love with T-ball but she did develop a decent arm. On this walk, we discovered a bucket in the middle of a street that marks a currently small sinkhole. It made a good target.

Alison, the T-baller.

If you look closely, you can see the yellow ball about to enter the sinkhole bucket. Let's  hope that thing doesn't spread...

Ali is much more dedicated to her baking/cooking craft than ball. She gifted me with jewelry and banana-walnut pancakes. It was a lovely day, made better with their company and the emergence of my irises, many of which came from my mother's yard. They seem to like  2018.

My mother's mother and one of her sisters were named Iris, so I like to see them bloom for a lot of reasons.

Side note: My Aunt Iris, for reasons unknown to me, had the nickname "Jiggy" and in any story about my mom's side of the family, usually had an "Aunt Jiggy" reference. Jeff has had a hearing issue for a long time, but it was only at her funeral, several years after he'd met her, that I discovered he had always thought we called her "Aunt Ziggy." (This may only be amusing to me, so skip this paragraph if you didn't giggle a little...)

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