Sunday in the Country

When I was six we lived with my grandma for a year in the country. She had lived with us in the city the previous year after Grandpa died. I'm not sure why we moved to her home in the country this particular year (what do kids know of adults' choices and finances and whatnot and I've never asked the why question) but it did afford me the chance to go to the same one-room school that my mother, grandmother and great-grandfather had attended.

As with most country schools, consolidation took it over and the children in the area were bussed to the closest town. In this particular community the families decided to maintain the old school structure. They hold periodic craft sales, and the fall autumn one was yesterday. So Mom and I took a drive out into the country to visit our old alma mater.

We had a secondary mission: milkweed. No, not the pods for artistic fall creations. We dug up milkweed plants from some property Mom owns out there to transplant to her butterfly garden. It seems that Monarch butterflies must have milkweed for laying eggs. And Mom has gotten into butterflies in a big way.

It was a beautiful autumn day, crisp clear and sunny. And funny.