Isn't it funny how certain things trigger memories?
My parents have been on vacation (Northern European cruise, UGH!!!) and are returning home tonight. Last night, I went to Marysville to help my brother mow their yard. I found my dad's garden in some dire need of attention - he has quite a beautiful garden that requires daily attention, and given that they were gone for three weeks, it was in some serious need of attention. I actually found it quite upsetting to see it that way - don't get me wrong, from a distance, you would have had no clue, but I absolutely could not stomach the thought of him coming home and seeing it that way, so I got my yard waste bag, some clippers and went at it...my goal was to get the obvious stuff taken care of (wilted dahlias, dead day lilly leaves, weeds, etc) so he could work on the details he sees fit - particularly as they are hosting company at the end of the week.
My dad has some potted petunias on the driveway that had dropped some leaves, so off I went in search of a broom and dustpan to clean them up - and came across this little handbroom that made the journey from LaPalma to Clayton to Marysville. I remember that broom in the garage of our house in LaPalma (I believe I used that broom a number of times as well - usually when the rabbit hit in the plants by the pool and we had to sweep the dirt back in the planter so as not to get mud in the pool)...I don't know why I was surprised to see it, but I just was. I know why he kept it, it worked fabulously for its intended purpose.
I am happy to say that when we left, the yard looked great - Joe mowed and did some edgework, while I cared for the garden and did the remaning edgework. We also reaped the bennies of the garden...by relieving the cherry tomatoes off the tomato plants in the front yard...they were delicious.