Roses are in bloom adding a splash of color to the arbor by our home entrance. The pink rose was original to the 1896 farmstead when we moved in but was tangled amongst an old stone wall. I rescued it and gave it a more central position on the property. The farmstead rose flourishes better even without care than any of the other roses I have purchased since moving in.
Copyright James E. Martin 2014 Farmstead Rose
The yellow rose is reminiscent of my wife...my yellow rose of Texas.
Copyright James E. Martin 2014 Yellow Rose of Texas
Each summer that we have been in the old farmhouse, the ice cream truck chimes its electronic bells as it circles through the neighborhood. At their early ages, each of our three girls have run out of the house past the rose arbor with hair flying to the curbside calling out to Daddy to get his wallet. I am sure there are happy day memories established for each of them that will be invoked throughout their lives when an ice cream truck rings and circles around the neighborhood.
Copyright James E. Martin 2014 Anticipation of Summer Ice Cream
This weekend, the youngest Itsy Bit raced through the ritual and enjoyed a cone of cotton-candy-flavored scoop. I love the antsy anticipation at the window during the purchase. And the confident and satisfied swagger after the first lick.
Copyright James E. Martin 2014 First Lick of Cotton Candy Cone Satisfaction
This weekend I walked out with my wallet in hand and had the smartphone camera as well. These are images and memories for painting that depict life in small town America. My summer roses and the ice cream race. All in my mind's eye.
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