Remembering my mother, Lanie Ershow, a grand gardener
The week before this last big snowstorm, bulbs were pushing up shoots in my garden because it had been rainy and warm. I associate my mother with flowers. Today would have been her 87th birthday. I remember her standing in her backyard garden in shorts and a worn out t-shirt when she was 74, wearing her yellow gardening clogs that looked like Dutch “wooden shoes,” spade in hand and...