The menfolk

Destry, Colton, Papa Tom, Great-Grandpa Hogan, and Great-uncle Martin after our Mother's Day lunch on Saturday, May 11, 2013 in Shreveport.  My Dad always has the most beautiful flowers!

My Dad's nasturtiums.  He used to always have nasturtiums in Peru, where we lived from the time I was 3 until I was 8.  Seeing these on his patio brought back the rhythmic roar of the Pacific Ocean, naranjas (oranges) in my mother's giant canasta (shopping basket), two-hour school lunch breaks: we kids would walk home, grab a peanut butter sandwich, head to the beach, then back to school, with wet hair from swimming. We had no television.  The next-door neighbors had brought their television set with them from the U.S.; I asked what it was, and they said you could watch moving pictures on it; I asked them to show me and they couldn't (because there was no television station).  So I didn't believe them.  Maybe why, to this day, I still prefer National Public Radio to television?  BTW, I still have the canasta; it's my laundry basket.

Papa Tom, Great-grandpa Hogan, and Great-uncle Martin