It's the Little Things That'll Getcha

We moved into our house in January 2011. That same month we had visits from Holger & Anne (Matthew's Dad and his permanent Dance Partner.) Anne bought us a cyclamen as a house-warming present.

That bad boy is still around. And I love it.

I have since bought two other cyclamen, and a basil plant, which never stops kicking. And last spring, I was having a crummy day, so I bought myself a hyacinth to cheer up. Matthew's Mum, Susan, told me that when the hyacinth died, I should let it wither away and put the pot in a dark place, like a closet, for a few months. Then, I should take it out of the closet, and start watering it again, and it'll come back to life. Susan is an excellent gardener though - me, not so much. These houseplants are the best I've done in my whole life.

But I did it anyways with the hyacinth. It was pretty hilarious when I'd forget it was there in the linen closet, and then go to grab some toilet paper or a fresh towel and see this nasty, dried up plant on top of the pile of clean towels. I brought the pot back out in October, and said to Matthew, "I have no faith in this experiment."

But guess what: my little hyacinth is coming back to life!!! 3 beautiful little green buds are coming through the soil, all hopeful and promising. The cyclamen are still ticking along, constantly in bloom.

Today I had a sad little moment when I realized I won't be around to see the hyacinth fully bloom. There are some real hidden emotional traumas when you move.