It’s the Little Things that Get You

I went to the storage unit yesterday. I’d bought a hammock stand and wanted to find the hammock. It’s also past time for the girls to change over from winter to summer clothes. In our shuffling and looking I noticed two things, one I haven’t seen for nine years and the other I didn’t know I had.

Early this spring, my college friend contacted me wanting to get her hands on some tomato plants my parents sold at their nursery. It was a type of tomato they had propagated themselves, it was trendy in their town in Idaho. They sold thousands of tomato plants every year. I told her I didn’t know if they existed anymore. Mom didn’t sell the seeds, and I didn’t know if the Witch has any at the house.  I spent a moment being annoyed over losing yet another thing of mom and dads then let the feeling go and forgot about it. Until today, today, I looked through an old Tupperware container filled with bags of seeds. All the wildflower mixes we once sold at our garden center. A quarter pound of only Dames Rocket seed! I’m a serious flower child. I sorted out packets of sunflower seeds (I was going to grow sunflower playhouses for my kids when they were young, never happened.) California poppies, Hollyhocks, and Sweet Williams and then, right there, just lying in the bottom of the mostly empty box I found this.img_3428

I remember the day mom handed them to me like it was yesterday. I was waiting impatiently at the kitchen counter as she scraped a few seeds off the parchment paper where she was drying them. As she dumped them into the tiny bag and carefully labeled it with a permanent marker, she admonished me. “I don’t give these to just anyone!” She smiled at me.


“I know mom.” I bounced my tired eight-month-old on my hip. I was thinking about the long drive and even longer flight in front of me with my two kids.

“Start them in a south-facing window in March, maybe February. You could probably get away with that in Pittsburgh.”

I never got around to it in Pittsburgh.

To be honest, it’s the handwriting.

It gets me every time.

Other things on the list-

I bought myself some Chanel No 5 because my birth mom preferred it. Every time I spray it on, I smell the subtle (cheap?) notes that they must have used to make the perfume Charlie. I’m pretty sure Charlie was some kind of an attempted knock off of Chanel No 5. Charlie was mom’s favorite perfume growing up before she became unable to tolerate scents. It’s like wearing both their favorites.

Facebook memories, ugh. I don’t use FB a lot, but when I do, it remembers. Her messages were like bits of conversations.

You didn’t stay long enough! I wish you lived closer! I love you!

How did you manage to forget the box of jams I set out? Dad and I will bring them to Christmas.

This reminds me of you.

You have memories with Arlene.

Strawberry Milkshakes. The only food that makes chemotherapy tolerable.

Uncontrollable swearing, Shit for spiders, shit shit shit for fast spiders, Hell for snakes (the rubber ones she hid in her own strawberry patch to scare away birds), Dammit to Hell, ED! when he pretended he couldn’t hear her.

It’s the little things.


Coming soon on the blog!

The trip to Arkansas

Was it Murder?

Carly grows Tomatoes



0 thoughts on “It’s the Little Things that Get You”

  1. I turned off FB memories. My memory is good enough, tyvm.

    So what happens with the seeds now?

    1. I didn’t know I could turn it off.
      I’m going to plant some, see if anything mom tried to teach me stayed in my brain. We’ll see if I can grow some tomatoes. My siblings are already hoping for some seed for next year.

  2. Those are mostly nice memories, though, I think. My commenting avatar is a painting my mum did years ago that now hangs on my wall at home. I feel like she is somehow sharing my online adventures with me.

    By the way, this post appeared in WordPress reader before your previous post. WordPress told me the best thing to do is schedule your post for two minutes in the future. Otherwise it will sometimes post back in the timeline to when you first worked on it.

    One more thing… I don’t know if you read Esther’s blog, but her latest post is about taking her daughter to London yo see BTS.

    1. They are nice memories. The painting of the mountain, nice!
      Thanks for pointing that out! I’ll make sure to adjust that from now on, And thanks for the link! I’ll enjoy reading that!

  3. Totally missed this one, Carly! Hope you planted those tomato seeds! My mother just finally started a small herb garden right outside her front door, this after living in NY for 20 years. Before that, she had a huge garden back home and I had the lovely chore of watering everything every day, sometimes twice a day because it was so hot (she said). So as of last week, she planted tomatoes and basil and is telling me I should do the same. That’s before I showed her live pictures of my grapes…

    1. LOL
      I was the watering kid too, for my mom’s greenhouse. I do love that smell still. I planted my tomatoes seeds yesterday and should know in about seven days if they’re viable. I didn’t plant all my seeds…it’s not that warm here yet especially this week. Finger’s crossed. Maybe I better get a 2 liter of pop and build my own tiny greenhouse to get them started….

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