Cold weather crops (and flowers!) are few and far between. Single Johnny-jump-ups peek out here and there.
My 95-year-old hospice client complains of cold hands. "Oh, your hands are warm," she says when i greet her. She's always dressed in pink. After a while, she says, "I want to go home."
I've heard her daughters tell her many times she already
is home, so i take a different tack. "Oh, when are you going home?" i ask.
"Soon," she says. "Soon."
Photo from torontogardening.blogspot.com
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