Tilly Evan Jones

I have memories of spring, of May Day, whether they be true or not I have no idea.  Perhaps my sisters can tell me.

I have memories of May Day Macaroons, the only time our mother made them.  I loved those macaroons, soft, warm and chewy from the oven.  I loved their pure coconut sweetness.

I have memories of small paper baskets, cone shaped, with a tiny paper handle, filled with flowers and cookies, and hung on a friends door.

I love these memories of our mother.

I always will love macaroons and little wild violets