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It was a very cold November. Halloween was over and my two hardy young boys, James (four) and Shane (three), were outside playing. What I hadn't realized was that the boys were throwing the Jack-o-Lanterns around the very small yard, like big balls. Their laughter filled the crisp air, and it took me a bit of time to recognize that the hollow thuds I was hearing may be the source of their glee.

Now let us picture this. A small one bedroomed apartment at the the back of a cheesy little hair salon, on the Jersey Shore. Our little home has a very small, fenced-in play area full of toys, sticks and the things small boys joyfully entertain themselves with. The yard itself is simply Jersey dirt, gray, with nothing nourishing in it. There is not so much as a tuft of grass under the three trees on the lot. In the midst of this dismal little area were these two blond imps running and throwing pieces of pumpkin at each other with the passion and laughter only children know.

You see I worked a lot. Being alone, I didn't have anyone to show me how to carve a pumpkin for Halloween, so the Jack-Os were painted instead. Now there were three pumpkins, so there was a bit of a mess! Being vegetation, I didn't feel it necessary to clean anything but the kids. So in the house, the rowdy hooligans were corralled and the pumpkins went forgotten, amidst the joy of the bath.

The next day the ground was covered in a wonderful blanket of snow, which quickly became the next form of entertainment for the hooligans. And so went the winter, long and cold. No-one recalled the pumpkin fight.

Spring sprung and the hooligans were now four and five. The sun was warm and the rain came. The leaves were coming along and playing outside was much more comfortable and fun. One sunny day while sitting on the steps of the apartment I watched as the golden blond, Shane, was bent over little leaves of green. He was being especially delicate for the hardy hooligan that he was. With the sun glinting off of his curls, he looked up from his find and asked "Mommy will this be a flower?". Not being a gardener I said that I wasn't sure but we would watch them and see what they turned into. James piped up, "I found some too!" So the little family started the vigil of watching the green sprouts in the yard.

Oh! the joy when they began to vine in late spring. The hooligan's fascination when the lovely yellow flowers began to sprout throughout the little fenced in yard, was a joy to me! And then, "Oh Boy Mom! the flowers

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