Daddy's Car

She got to use daddy's car.  Couple of teen girls in our neighborhood.  Up and down the street.  Good time.  Ahhh youth.

 

This old guy (me) out kneeling along the curb planting petunias.  They drive by, peer down and go on.  I feel a little older.

 

Petunias.  I plant them because they spread. The Wave variety.  I have roses that are single bloomers. They succeeded the Bulbs.  When the roses are done I will cut them back in August.  Then I will have nothing there until the asters come into full regalia and the clematis flower.  So I planted petunias.

 

I don't love petunias.  They are short lived, not good cut flowers and kind of random.  As the hort books would say, not orderly. 

 

I was young, very young.  Before my folks died.  Late 50's.  Ruth and Earl had won a trip to Hawaii. The dealership had sold a lot of IHC freezers.  It was fun to think of Hawaii for John and me.  My mom had purple petunias at the left of our front step.  I made a laie  from them. They self seeded.  Volunteered.  Kept coming back again and again. Somehow, she never cultivated that area and they just proliferated.  All purple.  All one glorious mound.  I still can see them.  Not grandiflora.  Small.  Like the flowers on the wave petunias.  Mom was before her time.

 

But fragrant.  Pungent.  When it was warm and very light breeze blew it wafted across our noses.  I have a nose memory.  It still haunts and pleases me.  I don't think petunias smell as good as they did then.  Of course I have an older nose.

 

That's why I planted petunias yesterday.  I hope they stink.