Last summer, just after we moved into our fixer-upper, I wrote a few blog posts about our home’s previous owner, Mrs. H. I appreciated her blackberry bushes, entertained myself thinking about our house’s memories, and spent countless hours wondering about why we had both a peep-hole and windows in our front door, or why we kept finding straight pins in the cracks and crevices of the bedrooms.
Well, this spring brought another surprise.
And whatever those white flowers are in the first picture. They smell like Easter.
Thank you, Mrs. H, wherever you are. I’ve brought your blessings inside where I can appreciate them–and you.
I can’t wait for your blackberries.