For my entire memory, I have loved tropical things. Seas, jungles, birds, fish, flowers, foods. My Granny Sally made me a “ta-ta” out of a jungle print of leaves and animals backed with brown corduroy. I still have it. It is one of my treasures.
My mother used a queen sheet to cover the opening to the living room to allow the window unit to cool that room while we watched television in the evenings. It was also an African animal jungle print. It hangs in our house a few feet from where she used it.
Banana trees and elephant ears have always been among my very favorite plants. The exotic mimosas that populate my part of Texas and bloomed at my Granny Arie’s house are dear to my heart. Rich man’s grass aka pampas grass is another favorite of mine.  I am accumulating some things.
I have been working again toward a tropical garden. I am making great progress. I did not expect my dear husband to assist the way he has. He has given me generous gifts toward it.  He has encouraged me and offered real labor assistance often.  I am very grateful!
The palm tree he bought me years ago seems to have finally decided to put on some height. Its growth spurt has symbolic meaning for me. I am finally creeping out of my dormant state and into a new period of growth as well, it seems.
Before next week’s post, I will turn 49. Nearly half a century. I intend to live the next half a century being kinder to myself, truer to myself. Growing myself into the fullness of my being and growing my garden into the fullness of a jungle garden that lingers from the daydreams of my childhood.  It is my intention.