I have neighbors to the south of me who have the most spectacular garden, including a side yard of hollyhocks so vigorous, I can't stop gawping. This morning I went out, barefooted, to take a snapshot.
I don't know these neighbors well, just enough to tell them how much I admire their garden and wave to them when I turn into the alley, but I realize what a gift this garden is to our street and to me personally. I like it when people do what they do well.
This makes me think of Lillian in my SL ward. She gave fans away at church. If she ever saw you fanning yourself with a program or the hardback cover of a hymnbook, she'd pull a new fan, still wrapped in a protective cardboard shell, and hand it to you (or send it down the pew for people to pass on to you).
Lillian has given me at least three fans saving me from post-menopausal spontaneous combustion. One fan I held onto for a long time. I took it to NYC for two years and brought it back and then lost it in my own house. I was so sad to lose it. Then when we moved to SL and returned to that ward, she gave me another one.
I miss Lillian and her fans.
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