I LOVE FLOWERS

I LOVE FLOWERS

they hate me

I’m a nature-lover. When I’m not working (or writing), I’ll grab my camera and visit some local parks. Nature seems to change the atmosphere almost weekly, especially if you live here in Florida where the storms can change the scenery in a day.

Naturally, the weather has a lot to do with my wanderings. I don’t mind the rain, but I draw the line on lightning. I don’t mind the sun but will draw the line on temperatures that rise above nine degrees. Even a sunhat won’t keep you cool. Then of course, you’d have to worry about skin cancer.

Yet, as often as weather and time allows, my camera is ready to go.

A few years ago, I had very needed surgery on my foot which put me in a wheelchair for a month. Wasn’t happy about that but the tendon had to heal.

Some of my friends decided to have a pizza party at my house. It was their way of keeping me company for a few hours and the gesture was much appreciated. While the company and pizza were great, they also brought me an orchid. What a beautiful flower with such a delicate lavender color.

No matter what I did to keep that plant alive, it died!

Without telling them, as soon as I was out of the wheelchair, I drove to the nursery and bought another of the same color. A few months later, that also died.

For my brithday, the following year, my friend bought me a snow-white orchid. A few months later, it died. Yes, I bought a new one which also died.

I read all the instructions on the proper care of orchids and did everything the instructions said. Didn’t matter. I just had no luck with orchids.

I planted a few sunflowers. They died.

Azaleas were next. Guess what!

It seemed that every flowering plant I tried to grow, whether inside or outside, didn’t last more than two months.

My daughter-in-law knowing how much I love flowers, felt bad for me and one year for Mother’s day, bought me a calla lily plant. Well, we can all imagine how long that lasted! Of course, without telling her, I replaced it. The replacement also died.

The following year, she did it again. And again, I replaced it. Nope, it didn’t survive.

For a while, I thought (and hoped) my son and his wife had given up buying me flowering plants. Yeah, right! This year, they did it again. Another beautiful burgundy-colored calla lily. It’s sitting it the pot outside where it gets natural rain (every few days), morning sun and afternoon shade. It hasn’t died yet but the way it’s drooping, it’s only a matter of time.

My inner element is that of the earth. You’d think I’d be able to grow a few damn flowers!

And yet, I have a plant that has no flowers and it’s lasted over fifty years. Well, that’s not quite true. My grandmother gave the plant to my mom when she announced her first pregnancy more than seventy-five years ago.

When I told my mom I was pregnant with my first child, she rooted a piece of her plant and gave it to me. That was fifty-eight years ago.

If I can grow that, why am I having such a horrid time with anything that flowers?

I remember one year; my dad gave my mom a gorgeous lavender hydrangea to celebrate their move from their apartment to their first house. The year was 1969 and she immediately found a corner in their backyard where she intended to plant it. While my parents are now celebrating their lives in heaven, the plant dad gave her is still thriving. The blossoms are almost as large as basketballs.

My son’s father-in-law prided himself on growing azaleas. What a magnificent flower. He gave me one. Yep, you guessed it. However, at least with this one, it bloomed, but unfortunately, only once.

With the exception of the one I have now, every Christmas cactus that was gifted to me, has died. I’m keeping my fingers crossed with this one but even with this past holiday, the plant showed no signs of flowers.

Before you ask, yes, I’ve spoken to those who work at or own nurseries and have adhered to the advice they were free to offer. Sorry, no luck!

There is a large clay planter that sits outside my front door. Again, anything flowering plant that was placed in it, died. I’ve resorted to artificial flowers there just for a bit of ambiance.

My mom could grow anything. I often said that she didn’t have a “green thumb,” her entire hand was green. She’d laugh but had to agree. She had the magic touch.

My magic touch? Well, I write and take photos. Even though I’m not a professional photographer, I still enjoy grabbing my camera on a nice day and heading to a nearby park where I can capture the images of the beautiful blooming flowers and trees – things I don’t have the “knack” for doing on a personal level.

At least I have a few flowers, even if they are only in pictures.