Riffing a bit on this Thursday morning:
The scent of phlox is everywhere these days as more and more blooms appear. This is David Phlox, which grows very tall and is quite striking in the garden.
I see photos on blogs and on Instagram of flowers that have been plucked from a garden and are now inside the house in pretty vases. I love these photos, but I am not one who picks flowers from my gardens. I only do it when there is danger of frost or when, in the case of peonies and rain, the flowers are soon going to be on the ground. Or, as I had to do this summer, when Japanese Beetles are about to destroy them.
Why? I’ve been thinking about that. I like seeing the flowers in the garden beds, blooming where they’ve been planted. I like the landscape of plants that I see each day. I put them there for a reason and that’s where I want them to be. I fully realize I am most likely a weird exception in this particular area. The fact is, when the gardens are in full bloom, I don’t need flowers in the house. I can see flowers everywhere when I look out the windows and, better yet, I can go outside and smell them and observe them and marvel at all the splashes of color. They are out there, not just for me, but more importantly, for the butterflies and the bees and the bugs that need them to survive.
Cutting the flowers also shortens their life and I want them around as long as possible.
If I’m desperate for flowers in the house, I can always buy an inexpensive bouquet from Trader Joe’s. But I’m really only desperate for flowers inside when the seasons change; when autumn heads into winter and winter takes over for several months. Or when I’m on the road and a bouquet of flowers makes a strange place more like home.
At times, I’ve toyed with the idea of a cutting garden, but I know what would happen. I’d set up the cutting garden and then I wouldn’t want to cut the flowers. They’d stay where they were planted. So the ‘cutting garden’ would become another garden bed.
I tend to be this way about things I really like. I want them to remain in their ‘pure’ state. (I determine whatever the heck my concept of ‘pure’ is, of course; it’s all in my head.) It’s a longstanding joke between Don and me. Don: “How about if I add this and this to French Toast?” Me: “Not for me. I like it with butter and syrup.” Don: “What about powdered sugar?” Me: “No.”
Don: “How about sour cream on that baked potato?” Me: “No. I like it with butter and salt and pepper. Nothing extra. I don’t want to mess with it.”
We just went through this yesterday, although in this case, Don agreed with me. We toyed with the idea of making pancakes with the black raspberries and then we realized we like them the way they are. We didn’t want to bake them, or warm them up, or add them to batter. On our cereal? Yes. Maybe a few of them added to some plain yogurt? Sure. But otherwise, we’d rather eat them out of our hands and get that pure burst of taste from the berry without anything else added to the mixture.
All female casts in productions of Shakespeare? Not my thing. All male? Not really, but there’s a precedent for that since the actors in Shakespeare’s company were all male. But that was because women couldn’t do that sort of thing back then. Now, they can. Nowadays, it tends to be a directorial gimmick to change things up. I don’t think Shakespeare needs any gimmicks. Likewise, radical changes in the text – no and no and no. Tell the story that Mr. Shakespeare wrote. Don’t mess with it.
Oh, I know I’m quirky. And opinionated. I sort of like things that way.
But I’m tolerant as well; if Don wants to add things to his baked potato, have at it, I say. If he wants to add things to his French Toast, go for it – just as long as he doesn’t mess with mine.
He is not allowed to pick flowers from the gardens, however. That’s where I draw the line.
On to other things: I ran some errands yesterday (gathering supplies for the dollhouse build) and I had to stop at Target, where I found myself adding this $23 lamp to my cart.
I needed a lamp for this section of my desk, which is the section where I work on miniatures. It’s in a lovely shade of seafoam green and the brass matches the brass trim on my other desk lamp.
I like it a lot.
How can it be July 21st already? Summer is passing much too quickly, don’t you think? I’m trying to savor it while I can.