My parents bought a house with a rather sizeable hill on the side of it. The previous owners must have really loved to garden, or just really hated mowing the hill because they took out the lawn and put in tiered flower beds. There are four tiers. They are huge. They are a lot of work. My parents like to garden the normal amount. It is exhausting trying to keep those flower beds in shape. They've planted daffodils and have now given up and let them take over the flower beds. The bulbs that grow into daffodils will double every year or so, so each year they get more flowers than the year before. In the Spring the hill is a sea of yellow and green. It is beautiful. The sun warms the earth. Fat Bumblebees float between the blooms. It is the magic of spring in action. All this beauty translates into a house full of flowers for me. Mom lets me go out and whack down as many as I want. This year I wanted this many.
I got all seven of these vases from that basket.
My favorite is my pitcher full o flowers.
I don't know what it is about fresh flowers that transform the mundane in something inviting and special. My house is suddenly cheery and smells wonderful. This is my favorite part of spring. It's fun to go out in the warm sun and cut the flowers. It's fun to pretend I know what I'm doing when I arrange them in vases. It's really fun when I accidentally get an arrangement that looks really good. And it's fun to have the wonderful smell of flowers in the house. I love spring. Or maybe I really just love my Mom who lets me decimate her flower population year after year killing the magic of spring for my own amusement.
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