And every year I fall for it. Because every year, I look around and go, well, you know, I *do* have quite a few, and mine do tend to bloom year after year, unlike some people who simply toss them when they’re spent for the season.
And every year, I dunno if they were plotting it all along or if they cave at the last moment: after all, it’s such an easy way to make me so happy. I adore amaryllises. I adore planting them. I adore watching them grow. I adore seeing them bloom. The only reason their pictures aren’t plastered all over the front of this blog is that–well–there’s just not space for one more thing. Oh, wait, I think I see a pattern here…
Mail came today. A box. “Jolity”? I don’t…where? When did–wait, did I…? Who…?
I opened it. A Candy Cane amaryllis bulb, with a biodegradeable pot, soil, bulb, all ready to go.
Chunks from cocoa trees (how perfect is that?) for helping with drainage at the bottom. A few wheat seeds to add a grassy effect if I want. Even the tiniest tip of a flower bud, and when those start to come, you have to add water quick and let it grow or the stalk will come out stunted. I hunted through the packing slip, trying to figure out where this was coming from–and no, I didn’t wait till my birthday to open it. I’m not getting amaryllises for my birthday or Christmas this year, John said so. So there.
“This just screamed you… Best, Lene.”
Oh, Lene. Oh, wow. Oh, THANK YOU!!!