by Mary Rickert
I just saw this season’s first snowflakes drifting outside my window. I have forty daffodil bulbs to plant; alliums and tulips, as well. The seasons don’t wonder, as Ruthie would say. They just move along.
And so must I, but not without first taking this moment to thank you for sharing this magical place. Please join me in a toast (or raise a chocolate toad). To the cut flowers! We are the living and the dead.
Mary Rickert
October 28, 2013
About the Author
Photo by Will Bauer
Before earning her MFA from Vermont College of Fine Arts, Mary Rickert worked as a kindergarten teacher, coffee shop barista, balloon vendor at Disneyland, and in the personnel department at Sequoia National Park, where she spent her free time hiking the wilderness. She now lives in Cedarburg, Wisconsin, a small city of candy shops and beautiful gardens. This is her first novel. There are, of course, mysterious gaps in this account of her life, and that is where the truly interesting stuff happened. www.maryrickert.net
