bleeding hearts

As a northerner reborn I can tell you there are a few things I have noticed so far that have been absent in my life for far too long.  The grass; there is nothing anywhere in the south that compares to the fluffs of cool green grass that grow in the spring here.  Nothing.  The smell; the salty scented skies of cool spring mornings fill my nose with a misty chunk of heaven.  I am constantly craving fish.  And my memories.  My memories.  Each time I turn a corner with my two babies in tote, another memory creeps in feeling like deja vu at first and then becoming a solid real thing as I relive it.  I remember the cracks in the street lining a foursquare court, I remember a branch in a tree being the perfect spot to curl up and read, I remember a patch of moss being precisely where a group of fairies resided once upon a time, long long ago.  It is nothing but super sweet and in the newest phrase of my almost-almost two-year old “special special”, to share these artifacts and stories that make up my life.  And now there’s too.

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This one pictured below came as a most pleasant surprise.  Bleeding hearts; a dainty little chain linking up a hopeful spring reminder.  They have a little story hidden inside each flower.  Spread out for my boys to see, they too now have this little tale they can tell again and again.  

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It goes like this:

Once upon a time there was a man had a wish, the only thing her really truly wanted was to marry this woman he loved.  She wasn’t to keen on the idea and he spent quite of bit of time thinking about how to win her over.  He gave her two swans to show her his dedication.  But she said, “no.”  He gave her two earings to show her his sincerity.  But she said, “no.”  He gave her two slippers to convince her of his compassion.  But she still said, “no”.  He wished on a magic lamp and she finally, finally agreed.  You can push the two earing together like so, to make a heart indicating its the real deal.  My mama told it with the ending being a bottle of perfume, but I had forgotten and replaced it with a magical addition.  I rather like this change anyways.  But either way you wish to tell its cute and a lot of fun.

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Our stories are really all we have.  It is what we live for and what we will be remembered for (if we are so lucky).  They are something to share and something to keep.  They are silent, they are loud, they are life.  Oh, it is so good to be back.

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