What's wrong with me? (Really, I should know better than to ask that by now.) What is it that draws me to the weak and pathetic and less than perfect? How difficult would it be for me to go to that beautiful greenhouse on the corner and buy a flat of healthy, robust petunias? But nooooo. I have to go to Walmart, 17 weeks* after they've received this season's shipment of annuals, and purchase the seediest petunias I could find. I always feel sad for the left over flowers. Who's going to love them and take them home?
I purchased 6 white ones and 6 red ones and planted them in a pot by the steps to the porch. OK, I know. There are only 10 plants in the picture. That's because there was already a dead plant in each of the packs. I then pinched them way back so that the plants would once again bush out and they'd produce healthy blossoms. That was a month ago and I thought for sure there would be blooms by the 4th of July. But today is June 30 and I have little hope that a miracle will occur in 4 days.
And yes, to answer the question I know you all are thinking. I have brought home my share of Charlie Brown Christmas trees; even long after my finances no longer made it my only option. Once again, I felt sorry for the tree no one else could ever love and I would slave over it to make it look exceptionally beautiful.
In the past week I've found myself thinking that I should just buy some new flowers and replace the runts that refuse to flourish; but something in me just won't let me. Wait... what's this? A bud? Two buds? Ah, vindication will yet be mine!
*All measurements of time as expressed in this article are prone to exaggeration.
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