Every spring, close to Memorial Day, my husband and I get flowers for all of the pots and window boxes. He tells me the flowers don’t matter to him. It is an untruth. One year he chose most of the flowers. There were several flats of marigolds as well as an abundance of purple petunias. I put them in the window boxes together, the combination reminded me of Mardi Gras. I thought he liked them so I brought the tradition forward. Those baby blues crinkled when I mentioned it to him. He grinned and said, “No, I was tired of looking at flowers and I wanted to get the hell out of there.”
We chose flowers this year too. We visited three places. I said, “You like the flowers” and he replied, “No, I don’t care one way or the other. You like the flowers. If you’re going to get them you may as well get some colorful ones.” I got a profusion of pansies. I love them. There are 3 pots of purple petunias too. I put marigolds in the window boxes. It’s a tradition.