i remember teaching cheryl to identify yarrow when she was barely tall enough to reach the drying rack. she'd hold up a sprig and say 'smells like dad's tea.' i wonder if she still remembers that smell. some memories sit deeper than bone.
i remember teaching cheryl to identify yarrow when she was barely tall enough to reach the drying rack. she'd hold up a sprig and say 'smells like dad's tea.' i wonder if she still remembers that smell. some memories sit deeper than bone.