I was lucky enough to grow up in a house that had a backyard childhood dreams are made of. And in that backyard was a Mock Orange bush. Every June it flowered; delicate, white, sweet smelling blossoms that appeared by the hundreds and cascaded down the branches, pulling them even lower to the ground and the result was a prefect, nature-made tent. I spent hours beneath it's shelter. And I knew that someday I'd have my very own backyard with it's very own Mock Orange.

Well, fast forward through a bunch of years, marriage, several apartments, a condo and a baby and childhood memories seemed very far away indeed. I didn't exactly forget about the Mock Orange requirement for my someday-house. But it was relegated to a distant, distant back burner. So many other things took precedence. Imagine my complete and utter surprise, therefore, when several weeks after moving in to 1187, as I wandered through the back corner of our yard, behind the garage, actually paying attention to what was there that I should happen upon...? You guessed it! A Mock Orange bush. Everything having been super early last summer the flowers were long gone but still I recognized it. And it was right there. In my new backyard. And I hadn't even known.

I think I might have done a little dance.

And realized all over again that we were meant to live no where else.

Now, after waiting a whole year, through this interminably long, cold, wet Spring it is finally flowering. And the whole yard is filled with it's citrus scent and I have cut branches and brought them in the house and if the current weather ever breaks Elli and I may just have to spread out a blanket under it's shelter and bring everything full circle.