Blackberries and radishes and Mom’s love

Sunday is Mother’s day. If your mother is living, be sure to tell her you love her; if she has passed away, be sure to tell her twice that you love her.
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Still in the middle of blackberry winter in East Tennessee, temps should climb back to seasonal over the next week.
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I have five writing projects ongoing; yesterday I began one about a small skirmish that took place in a West Virginia tavern many years ago and I typed 1500 words; that is a lot for a one-fingered pecker like me.
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Crutches: nuisance; invaluable.
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Carolyn tried to plant her radish seeds in a child’s plastic wading pool. She used some king of potting soil that has a lot of tree bark chips in it; needless to say that when it rained hard, the chips and seed all floated and gathered into clumps and now there are two impenetrable forests of seedlings from which she may have been able to salvage four or five radishes. She dumped the whole mess in a flower bed and is thinking about finding some top soil and trying again. I was looking forward to having a cold biscuit with fresh, peppery radishes. Bless her heart.
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Have a good weekend!
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