Self Entertainment
Published May 23rd, 2008 in Your Experiences/Thoughts.This week I bought and planted a blue hydrangea. Not so funny you think, but to me it is downright hilarious. I am entranced and entertained by those changes that happen in me that I cannot predict and come out of the blue (see in this context even that is funny).
Until five years ago, I totally did not like blue hydrangeas. As a kid, I found the Mother’s Day displays to be some bizarre abhorrence of nature. I did not, I did not, I did not like BLUE hydrangeas! WHO WOULD BUY such a thing. True my rather creative but less than particular Grandma Bessie might enjoy such a color but RE-ally.
How did I develop such an early clarity of anti-blue hydrangea sentiment?Who knows, I say with a shrug. I was aware that I had a more than passing negative attitude towards them, but entering therapy to find out why would have been overkill.
THE BIG CHANGE: I awoke to loving them. Truly I literally woke up one day about 5 years ago. I go tootaling down the street and on that day when I saw a Blue Hydrangea, I knew I was in love. Wild, bizarrely in love. Who knew how lovely they really were?
I also had some sneaking suspicion that somewhere in my upbringing, age 45 was the time to start enjoying such a traditional Mother’s Day plant. We widely talk about the biological time clock. I believe my blue hydrangea time clock went R-I-I-I-N-N-G-G. My brain reset during my sleep and all the cells in my body suddenly become receptive to falling in love with those delicate clusters of flowers that slowly unfold into a brillant show of glistening blue.
From the first moment I felt the change, I found it funny and have laughed every time I notice the desire arising to acquire this once undesirable plant for my garden.
This year I did it. I bought one called Endless Summer. It’s a great name, although as an aside, I am not sure it was the best choice for this zone or the selected area of the garden.
I feel tickled pink each time I pull up my driveway and see the sweet pure blossoms dancing in the lush green bush.
P.S. Just in case you had anything to do with the ringing of the clock, thanks Grandma Bessie.