One particularly cold, bleak and blustery day in January of this year, I came across a little tucked-away shelf of house plants while grocery shopping at the local Safeway.
The plants, nestled in little sienna brown painted plastic pots, had a tropical aura about them and their lush green leaves and bright, cheerful blooms, shone like bright beacons of the coming promise of Spring, warmth, and sunshine.
Plus, they were under 5 bucks each.
Immediately, the sucker-for-a-bargain section of my psyche (firmly planted by my Depression-era raised Yankee mother) leapt into action. I moved closer to the display of the cheery, tiny pots of sunshine as a vision of one of them happily fitting perfectly on a lonely, winter weary shelf in my bathroom filled my mind.
Moments later, I had one of the pots in my hand. It was a small, yet well formed plant with a cluster of vibrant yellow flowers encircled by healthy green leaves. I could almost hear it greeting me a sincere good morning in that happy sing-song way as I stepped out of the shower.
The clerk at the checkout informed me that the plant was called a primrose and that they they had been very popular that week. He further explained that after they were gone, they wouldn’t be getting any back until next winter. The sucker-for-a-bargain section of my psyche internally smiled with smugness because the only thing better than a bargain is bargain that’s flying off the shelves…
After purchase and arrival home, I realized that I had made the right decision the minute I repotted the primrose and placed it on the bathroom shelf. It did indeed brighten the bleakness of a cold winter morning and the blooms gloriously lasted for weeks.
It wasn’t until the blooms began to fade and drop and the leaves began to brown and crumble around the edges that I decided to read about the primrose. According to everything I read, the plants were known as “throw-aways.” Once the bloom was gone, toss it out and move on as getting them to rebloom was next to impossible.
It may have been the most depressing words about a houseplant that I had ever come across – not that I spent much time reading sad stories about houseplants, but the idea of tossing out my little pal that had brought such cheeriness simply because his usefulness was questioned made my heart sink a little.
My green-thumbed Yankee determination kicked into high-gear. I was not only going to save this little plant, I was going to carry it across the impossible valley of darkness and into the magical land of “Rebloom”.
And that’s exactly what I did. Say hello to my resurrected, re-blooming as of this morning, little bit of sunshine Primrose buddy. And realize that Spring really is just around the corner and that sometimes the impossible is possible…
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