Chapter Eight: The Anual Hunt for Dead Plants!

My mom is pretty crazy, but in a good way.  If any of you have ever spent time with Marg you know what I'm talking about.  Yes, I call my mom Marg; I always have and I don't really know why.

Me and Marg last year at Thanksgiving

The Marg I know likes to have fun, stays up late, listens to her music loud, and puts the term, "shop til you drop" to shame!  The funniest thing about my mom is she thinks she's old, but does my previous sentence about my her describe an old women?   I think not!

The seasons have changed and Fall is here, my favorite time of year.  Growing up we lived maybe two miles from the mouth of the Ogden canyon  My mom and I would go on long drives through the canyons near our home to collect weeds and dying fall colored plants.  We'd blast K.T. Oslin or Billy Dean, sing at the top of our lungs, keeping one eye on the road and the other on the look-out for any cool looking dried plant.  We'd pull over when we'd spot some, cut them down, and take them home.  We used our plants to make beautiful arrangements to display on our front porch.  We did this for years!  To this day whenever I'm driving and spot a random but pretty plant, I think to myself, "that would make a great display".

I miss our long drives Marg!  I love you!