Welcome to the village, the latest micro mashup series!
For my mother, a memory:
You loved our island so much, you built a village. Wooden miniatures of the store, the church, our house with its yellow awnings, the town hall where you took me as a child every Halloween to bob for apples.
In his garage workshop, your husband jig-sawed the little buildings and you hand painted each one, dabbing tiny brushes in brightly-hued acrylic paints. Later, you sold them and your cookbook at craft fairs on the library lawn, at yacht club art shows.
But I didn’t inherit the artist gene, so I build our village with words.
Isn’t it comforting to be able to say, “Everything’s the same back in my little town”?? I find it so very comforting and welcoming to go back to a place you love dearly; a place where you collected your most cherished memories and find it untouched by
too much so-called progress. That’s so rare in today’s world.
Lovely