flowers

If you know me, you know how much I love flowers. Any kind of flower, be it a weed, wildflower or most prized rose. If it blooms, I love it.

It is still cold in Texas. We really won’t warm up until April. That is when the wildflowers show up, in a big way! Texas may not have its 4 seasons, but she sure makes up for it in the spring.

I have been looking at seed catalogs, watching shows about raising flowers, dreaming of having a greenhouse by my pottery studio. Maybe a chicken coop as well. All this day dreaming has got me excited for spring, when I can finally get my hands in the dirt. Planting flowers and vegetable seeds is one of my favorite things to do. I love the smell of the earth, the promise of a beautiful plant and the welcoming of the bees and hummingbirds.

I come from a long line of flower gardeners. My earliest memory of flowers was my grandmother’s sweet peas that she grew on her bank behind her house. Each late winter she would burn the bank. In a few weeks, little green sprouts would appear. Within weeks, the whole bank would be covered in sweet smelling sweet peas. I loved picking them for tiny bouquets. She also had a greenhouse where she would start her flowers and vegetables in the winter. Going into the greenhouse with her was magical. Granny always wore a smock with big pockets. She always had what she needed in those pockets! By the time spring arrived, the enchanted smell of flowers wafted out the door as you opened it.

My Mom and her sisters all loved to garden. Our childhood home always had flowers all around the house. A vase of flowers was a must in the kitchen windowsill and coffee table. Our mom’s big red geraniums were the neighborhood prize along with huge white snowball bushes. To this day, my favorite thing to do is to walk around my Aunt Shelby’s house as she tells me about her flowers. I am grateful to have seeds from her garden that I plant each year. True heirloom flower seeds.

It is hard to grow an English garden in central Texas. We get such extreme heat and wind. I do have little pockets of flower gardens that I tend to every day. I am one of those people that talk to their flowers and touch each one. Flowers bring such joy and brighten up even the gloomiest day. I can be having a horrible day, but as soon as I start watering my flowers, touching them and bringing in a beautiful handful of my own flowers, my day just lifts and everything is right with the world.

I have been working from home during the pandemic. I am very grateful that I still have a job, but more grateful that I can walk outside during the warm months and smell the roses. Watch a bumble bee take flight or fill up a hummingbird feeder. This time has taught me to slow down. Not just the pandemic, but aging too. With age comes a sense of belonging, a time to actually reap some of the hard work rewards. My time at home has allowed me to not have to think about getting all dressed up with a full face of makeup. But a pair of jeans, tee shirt and a fresh face. Wrinkles and all.

Many things have changed in my life, but the constant has always been flowers. Even if it is a tiny weed that has a sweet bloom, it has always made me smile and that is a blessing unto itself.