Sunday, March 4

Sun Burst

This is what it looked like in my neighborhood on Friday morning. It was a delicious blue sky day; the kind of day that crawls into your skin with it's sunshine and cheer and begins firing endorphins willy-nilly through your synapses, causing you to grin broadly and sing show tunes at the top of your lungs. A welcome sunshine morning that infuses you with a deep sense of well being and security. All is good with the world when a day starts out with a sky like this. It probably goes without saying that this kind of baby blue beauty is a rarity around here. Especially during the winter months where instead the standard is a sky more readily described as low, heavy, gray and dismal. I tried and I can't make that sound any more mystical or romantic. I can't put poetry on grave and dreary firmament. It's nothing but morbidly depressing. But on Friday, with the the heavens alight and the contentment chemicals surging to full steam, I took Andrew on a walk in the sunshine to our neighborhood plant nursery. That's where we overloaded the buggy with potting soil, seed, annuals, new pots and a variety of houseplants. My afternoon task would be a simple and highly desirable one. Namely, I would spend it outside in the sunshine playing in the dirt. This? This is an afternoon in heaven for me.
After re-potting the three plants we inherited from the house owners when we became renters here, I began with my new pots and plants. Now my house is filled with lovely green things. On the front windowsill facing the street it now looks like this:

And the hearth at my fireplace looks like this:

I love these plants. I don't know what they are called, but I had one in college and I named it appropriately "resurrection plant" of the genus riseupfromdadead . Poor plant. I continually neglected it and starved it of moisture for weeks on end; yet just as it reached it's shriveled and brown state of decay, I could dowse it with water and I'll be darned but it perked up every time. The thing was totally amazing. Which is more than I can say for my goldfish "Moses" who was a contemporary of the resurrection plant that first year I was away at college in Southern Utah. The goldfish Moses kicked it within hours of arriving at my trailer/apartment/home along with his bowl mate "Rose". Moses was floating belly side up in the little tank first thing the morning after I received him. I suppose you can't expect much more from a twelve-cent feeder goldfish whisked from the tank of ten thousand at the pet shop. But it all got a little sadder and stranger when Moses' replacement "Moses II" also kicked it within hours of being in the bowl with Rose. Another fish belly up and one more Moses replacement. I named it appropriately Moses III. It died too. Within hours. I am not making this up. So with Moses I, Moses II and Moses III having been sent on the long swim to the sea I gave up and decided that Rose would remain the only fish in the ocean for me. It was a brilliant life we shared together for approximately three months; Rose flitting happily 'round her bowl and me feeding, watching and nurturing my beloved fish friend.
Then one fateful day, my roommate and best human friend began to taunt my fish, telling it "Hi little fish, your name is MOSES!"
"NO!" I shouted. "Leave my fish alone! Moses is the name of fish that DIE!!"
That last was added for sheer dramatic effect. I stepped over to the bowl and cried:
"Your name is Rose. Your name is Rose!"
Throughout that day my friend stopped by the bowl periodically to say "Hello Moses" to Rose. Occasionally she would call out from the other side of the room "How ya doin' Moses?" and chanted happily "Moses, Moses, Moses the fish's name is Moses" in spite of my protests in opposition.
For my part, I told the fish "Please don't die. Your name is Rose. You are NOT Moses. Your name is Rose. Listen to me. Your name is ROOOOOOOOOOSE!!"

Perhaps my pleading was not earnest enough, or perhaps my roommate knew more about the fish psyche than I did. Whatever the reason, the fact remains, Rose Moses died later that night.

Returning now to the homes and garden tour. Over at the TV stand, I put this:

This plant grows gorgeous red waxy flowers. I believe it's called Flamingo Flower which is a seriously cool moniker. The scientific name is Anthurium hybrid in case you are interested. I have spied this plant often sitting in others' houses and have been pining for one of my own for months. If you look closely you can just see a bright crimson bud beginning to burst forth.

And for the grand finish to my houseplant tour; decorating the sideboard is this set of tulips brought over by a friend this week.

Also, while at the nursery I bought these super-awesome-gel-bead-things which I believe are not only decorative but also functional for flower arranging. I intend to test that theory later today when I stop at the flower stand on the corner for some additional fresh flowers.

All for all, I am very pleased with my effort and even more pleased with my timing because the remainder of the weekend the skies looked like this:

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