Yesterday, I was sick. Today, I am better. Thus, yesterday's post is today.
My morning glories have begun to blossom. I can't explain to you the immense amount of joy and inspiration I derive from them. They are the easiest seeds to plant; then in a matter of days, seedlings sprout; in weeks, vines begin climbing. They climb anywhere, over anything, from the ground of small pots.
My appreciation for these flowers began as a teen reading Edith Schaeffer's The Hidden Art of Homemaking.
"The first 'garden' Fran and I ever had was a wooden butter bucket, wide
and low, filled with lovely black soil Fran had carefully gathered from
a forest, and given a layer of manure to enrich it further (down in the
middle somewhere). During those depression days after college, as he
attended seminary, we were living in a downtown Philadelphia apartment -
top floor rear of an old row house. We had a tin roof, surrounded by
an ugly barrier, on which to step out and hang up our clothes. The
wooden butter tub was the source of a transformed view! We could not
substitute trees or mountains for rooftops, brick walls, electric wires,
telephone poles and rubbish cans in bare dirt yards, but we could
improve the immediate view of a tin roof with that ugly wooden barrier.
We put the bucket in the middle, right by the barrier. At the back we
planted heavenly blue morning glories. Oh the excitement of their
actually coming up, and starting to climb the hopeful grocery string
carefully tied in position for the start of their climb! And oh, the
greater thrill when they began twisting themselves beyond the strings up
to the barrier...and made their way across the top, in both directions!
"It really was fantastic to see the difference made by
the vine covered barrier and the flowers spilling out and over on to the
tin roof. I felt as if I had a rather elegant penthouse - especially by
the third summer of our marriage when Priscilla was born, and I sat out
there rocking her carriage to put her to sleep in our 'garden'
surrounded by the heavenly blue morning glories, for all the world as if
we had a cottage in the country!" (90-91).
Schaeffer, Edith. The Hidden Art of Homemaking. Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., 1971.
Since then, I've taken morning glories and their concept with me from our first 300 square foot apartment, to our tiny balcony and now to our little house. To me, morning glories are symbols of being content where I am, and making it more beautiful with my presence. As long as I can, I'll count morning glories every day at breakfast and not all the social/political/familial/emotional/financial problems of the world. I'll deal with those after breakfast.