everyday distractions: me as a flower (listening to "don't get me wrong", the pretenders)
I planted several varieties of zinnias this spring, none of which were marked on their packets as being curly-petaled. There were, though, some marked "goliath", whose blooms have proved to be so petite that if I had seen them in passing at a florist or maybe in a neighbor's garden, I'd have inquired about them, curious at the "teacup" breeding.
Not being a picky person when it comes to these things, my focus being more on preventing the plants' premature death, I have been quite overjoyed at the surprises I've been coming home to each day. (Fun fact: If one is looking for validation in the "adulting" department, I highly recommend growing flowers from seeds. It's exceptionally helpful at dulling the pain of life's hum-drum happenings, like, for instance, not getting the laundry done, taking way too long to correct the grammar in one's sister's college paper, or say, pushing forty. Not me, necessarily, which is why I used the indefinite "one", so y'all don't get confused.)
This bloom, I think, looks like me. I have curly hair, and it has curly petals! See? Maybe, like pets, plants eventually begin to resemble their owners? No? Okay.
Another thought: Maybe the folks at the seed packaging, um, place, are stoned. They take all of the carefully bred seeds, toss them into the air, which is really high up, because it's probably a warehouse with incredibly tall ceilings, then let them fall in a mix onto the floor. They then scoop them into their packets willy-nilly, and then they all smile because a crazy person somewhere will get a real kick out of it. I wonder what music they're listening to in that big seed packaging place.
everyday distractions: me as a flower (listening to "don't get me wrong", the pretenders)
I planted several varieties of zinnias this spring, none of which were marked on their packets as being curly-petaled. There were, though, some marked "goliath", whose blooms have proved to be so petite that if I had seen them in passing at a florist or maybe in a neighbor's garden, I'd have inquired about them, curious at the "teacup" breeding.
Not being a picky person when it comes to these things, my focus being more on preventing the plants' premature death, I have been quite overjoyed at the surprises I've been coming home to each day. (Fun fact: If one is looking for validation in the "adulting" department, I highly recommend growing flowers from seeds. It's exceptionally helpful at dulling the pain of life's hum-drum happenings, like, for instance, not getting the laundry done, taking way too long to correct the grammar in one's sister's college paper, or say, pushing forty. Not me, necessarily, which is why I used the indefinite "one", so y'all don't get confused.)
This bloom, I think, looks like me. I have curly hair, and it has curly petals! See? Maybe, like pets, plants eventually begin to resemble their owners? No? Okay.
Another thought: Maybe the folks at the seed packaging, um, place, are stoned. They take all of the carefully bred seeds, toss them into the air, which is really high up, because it's probably a warehouse with incredibly tall ceilings, then let them fall in a mix onto the floor. They then scoop them into their packets willy-nilly, and then they all smile because a crazy person somewhere will get a real kick out of it. I wonder what music they're listening to in that big seed packaging place.