My girls are officially adults.  I didn’t count graduating from college.  Or getting married.  I don’t even consider the fact that my youngest is making me a grandmother come December as grounds for adulthood.  Any 12 year old can do that.  (Well, SOME 12 year olds and glad mine isn’t one of them!)

So what makes a person a grown-up?

Having a home mortgage.

Somehow that monthly check you mail…..or – EFT you transfer – makes you officially no longer a kid.  Maybe not for everyone, but that’s the tipping point in my book.  A house payment is big stuff.  It tells people you mean to stay rooted.

Well, both of my girls are rooted as of this year.  They’ve both bought houses: one in West Texas and the other in Washington, D.C.  I’m not necessarily happy about how far away they live from me, but I am happy they’re thriving. Part of that thriving is that they both put in gardens!  So each daughter went plant-by-plant through my yard,

discussing likes and dislikes, seeing what I could share from my landscape – much of which is edible – that would grow in conditions very different from my spot here in the Pineywoods of East Texas.  One special plant at my house is figs.  Why?  I’m talking about it on GardenDishes today, (along with a recipe for fig preserves) but mainly because of tradition.  And I’m thankful they’re carrying it on for me since I can’t do it anymore…..