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My attempt to lift one of the older Garden Seeds. I really like how mine came out. This field of flowers is a park in San Francisco, so how can you not think about flower children if you remember that far back?Journaling Reads: I may look like a 40-something professional woman most of the time (even here kicking back on a vacation). I may be a conservative Christian Republican. But…I'm also a flower child.In the late 1960's, I didn't really live all that far from San Francisco. And although I was younger than 8, I knew that my world was changing. Since preschool I had been told that gilrs should have careers; they could do anything boys could do. I knew a friend of the family was in Vietnam and many people didn't think the government should have sent him and the other young men there. I knew Black people, and that only in that decade were some people beginning to understand that they were deserving of the same rights as the rest of us. I knew some people were experimenting with drugs. I knew men were wearing their hair longer and women were wearing their skirts shorter, or forgoing skirts all together in favor of pants. And I knew that some people just wanted to stop and smell the flowers.The 60s brought about lot more change, some of it bad, most of it good. So, I still like stopping to pick the flowers, weaving them into daisy chains and enjoying all the opportunities God brings my way.
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