Today my Jane-bug turns E L E V E N!
When Jane was three we were living in New Jersey.
In the early summer of that year, I packed up my three children and
went out west to visit family in Utah leaving Mr. Nielson behind.
{He couldn't come because of work}.
I stayed nearly a month.
At the end of our stay, Aunt Courtney Jane wrote a poem
about three-year-old Jane that fit her perfectly:
How to tell Jane from the Marigolds in an Afternoon in May
May came to Jane at Umi's house with
her dad miles away.
So she took to pulling at the garden
and playing in puddles
that collected underneath the
backyard table.
Jane grunts to say "yes please"
and grunts to say "no thank
you!"
The difference is in the very
slight movement of her head.
Her head
covered in rusty oranged straw
tends to twist and tangle to
pull sideways making her small body
look like a match lit.
Her head the flame.
And in the afternoons she's in the
garden
wobbling among the flowers
putting the marigolds to shame.
Her blue eyes match the sky.
The pink on her cheeks
lasts the whole year through.
And her hair is just
as orange.
Happy Birthday, Jane!
