Lately my Sunday mornings have been the same. And I don’t hate it one bit.

The Hubs sleeps in, I make myself a cup of drip coffee, Twitch (my rambunctious little mutt) and I fight for elbow room on the couch while I work on writing blogs for the week (by work on, I mean: spend way too much time trying to think up clever things to say about something you might find remotely interesting..by you, I mean: I don’t really know who YOU is).

Me, the lappy & Twitch sharing the couch. {PS: His collar is handmade by Sup Dog – click the picture to go to her site!}

Moving on…and back to my title! Any weekend that requires no make up is the kind I just can’t get enough of. Go on, start your judging! After a week of wearing heels (ok, fine – they’re platforms), dresses and powdering my nose, nothing sounds more luxurious than my softest t-shirt and some leggings (I know, I know. I’m WAY too old to pull these off – realistically anyone above age 5 should probably stop, but I just can’t! I’m justifying them as workout pants so whatever. Judge on).

Yesterday I spent the morning riding my grandparent’s mower around their yard while the rest of my family tilled the garden (on another note – I’m so excited for garden fresh produce this year!). My zig-zag landscaping adventures caused the Hubs to spend the afternoon making fun of me because I won’t go near our push mower. To be fair: last year my Dad attacked a snake with the weed wacker after the Hubs ran over it with the lawn mower (which did not kill it). {Have I mentioned my fear of snakes is crippling?!} In addition, I’m convinced that I’ll kick up a rock that ends my running career by taking out a shin. No thank you.

Yesterday was also car maintenance day so after the Hubs & my Dad changed the oil and checked all the “levels” (whatever those are), I vacuumed & washed.

Exhaustion + the fact that I was still on a landscaping high, led me to do some plant shopping. I would’ve preferred to spend my money locally, but Walmart was convenient and I figured I should take full advantage of my brown thumb feeling green for a brief moment.

Initially I had planned to buy Basil & Cilantro, but [go figure] they had neither pre-grown. Next thing I know I’ve been in the garden section for an hour and my buggy is full of flowers I can’t pronounce.

Alas! I’ve made my final selection, paid the nice fella for my buggy-full-of-color-and-cheer and I meander to the car.

BUT THEN: my buggy took a left turn and pulled me to the roses outside. As I approached the collection of peachy-pink roses, I gasped. When you lose someone you love, the memories can hit you like a tidal wave in the ocean. And there she was..my Gammy. My mother’s mother was a frail little lady who chain smoked, drank black coffee and gave the tightest hugs you could imagine. She was creative, thoughtful and everything I strive to be. I could go on about her for days, but I’ll save those memories for another post 🙂

I frantically started plowing through the rose bushes trying to find the perfect one. Found it! Loaded it into my buggy, spun around so fast my buggy went up on two wheels and raced back inside. The poor cashier gave me a puzzled look, worried he’d run something up wrong. “No sir” as I try to pretend my arms aren’t covered in fresh scratches from the briars and my eyes aren’t filled with tears “I just saw these roses and had to get some!”

And so: after the Hubs awakes and I bribe him with brunch at Drip, we’ll be planting our very first rose bush! I’m optimistic about this adventure (aka: I hope I don’t kill these!) and I can’t wait to fill my house year after year with the sweet smell of fresh roses and memories of my sweet Gammy.

My Coretta Scott King rose bush!