Skip to content


September 2, 2015

Sometimes I joke that my life is really a story that’s being written by someone, when things happen that just seem too perfect to be true. This was one of those moments:

I went over to my mother’s place recently to pick up some of my and my brothers’ old toys and picture books, so Squirrel – my best friend’s son, my as-good-as-nephew – will have something to play with at my place.

One of the things we found in my mother’s cellar was one of my picture books – something I had completely forgotten about until I saw it, but once I had it in my hands, I remembered that it was one of my very first books.

And then I saw what it was called, I just burst out laughing:


It’s called “In the Garden”.

I guess the author of my life story wanted to put in some foreshadowing of what I’d grow up to be… gardener, horticulturist, all-around plant-obsessed person…


I’m quite impressed that it has survived all those years and all those children – not just my brothers and me, but also visiting cousins and friends.


No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: