I planted some flower baskets today. Usually I buy a couple of already made up planters every season, but today I decided to hit the garden center and do it myself. I bought marigolds, and they remind me of my aunt who always planted marigolds down the length of her backyard walk.
I bought two fuchsias, and they remind me of my mom who had a wonderful green thumb and had baskets of fuchsias all around the front porch of our family home. I remember going to the PNE with her, to the flower show, and she would take little clippings from the display fuchsias and take them home wrapped in a wet serviette tucked inside of her empty coffee cup. I am sure it wasn't kosher to take those clippings, but it was fun aiding and abetting her crime.
I bought geraniums and pansies because I like them. I love the cranky faces on pansies. And I also bought a tomato plant, because my son, the gardener, told me to. It may have to come camping with us this summer because I think we will be on the road before it begins to bear tomatoes.
I planted a box of herbs: basil, oregano, thyme and chives for my husband who loves to cook with fresh herbs, and I bought some echeveria that again reminds me of my mom, and planted it in the pot she gave me when I first moved away from home at 19. That pot had echeveria in it then too. She called them hen and chicks.
A few days ago I re-potted two jade plants (they actually belong to my two children) and split my aloe vera plant into three. This is my son's aloe vera that I had to rescue a couple of years ago. I think it had been over-watered, or under-watered, but regardless now it is very happy and reproducing like crazy which is why one has now become three.
Re-potting the jade tree also reminds me of my mom. Years ago when we were estranged I talked to my brother about wanted to repair things with her. He told me to call her and ask her advice about re-potting my jade tree. I did. It was a beginning. That jade tree holds reconciliation in its roots. It makes me think of my mom.
I have flower boxes on the back porch and dirt under my nails.
They aren't just flowers. They are memories. Memories of so many people I love and have loved.
Now the rain can come, and their roots can take hold.
It is a good day.
Plants are big carriers of memories for me, memories of my Dad. He was the gardener in the family. Our side walks were always bordered with Sweet Alyssum, white. But we had honeysuckle in front of the white picket fence to bring humming birds.
ReplyDeleteYour day of planting sounds like a blessing for you today, and for those who enjoy the plants in the future.