Aug. 3, 2006 - very old post from a long defunct blog I once had |
As I opened the van door and walked towards the entrance of the store, the grey, bitter February wind let loose a spit of snow and whipped my hair into a froth that fell across my eyes and tangled into my mouth. Brushing the hair from my face, the doorbell jingled, announcing our entrance. The grey haired lady at the counter looked up from her paperback and asked us-
"May I help you?"
"Primroses." I asked
"Where would we find them?"
"through the giftshop, to your right in the greenhouse." she grunted, obviously far more entranced with her novel than her customers.
We navigated our way through the "gift shop", a small room crammed to the rafters with knick-knacks, and trinkets, all expensive, all breakable. We turned to our right and entered the greenhouse.
The warmth and humidity hit our faces almost like a slap. You could feel our dry, winter-parched skin and lungs breathe in the moist, earthy-scented air and sigh with relief. Our eyes, having become accustomed to the colorless grey and white winter landscape that is Indiana in February, blinked in surprise at the shocking array of colors that spread out on the table before us.
Primroses.
Fuchsia, orange, yellow, purple, red, white, pink juxtaposed together, smiling up at us, waving dark green leaves and bobbing their heads coyly. They seemed to whisper and giggle amongst themselves; who was going to accompany us home?
$3.99 each or $3.75 for 3 or more, the sign above them blared.
I let the boys each choose one.
From my quiet, thoughtful, bookish son came dark, velvety purple with a tiny center of sunny yellow.
My youngest son- always cheerful and clowning- selected flowers of the hottest, brightest pink nature has in her palette surrounding star-like centers of yellow-gold feathered with white.
Oldest son, ever the artistic soul (who taught himself to paint flowers one Saturday morning while watching a show on PBS) picked a soft and gentle buttercup yellow, fairy-brushed in the centers with orange and peach.
Purchases gently wrapped in tissue by the woman at the counter who had become much more animated by either the sight of the flowers or the fact of a sale (she chirped at us cheerfully and in GREAT detail about the care and feeding of Primroses as she wrapped and rang us up), we made our way to the van.
"Mom, you're smiling." a boys voice piped up as I turned the key and started home.
- posted @ 3:26 PM | 0 comments
Monday, February 09, 2004
|
| • Post A Comment! |
Aug. 3, 2006 - Untitled Comment |
| Posted by TOSPUBLISHER |
That was a wonderfully written entry! I'm glad you resurrected it. You write very well. The way you described the boys choosing primroses that matched their personalities made me see them. Keep it up!
-gena
www.TheHomeschoolMagazine.com |
| Permanent Link |
|
About Me
Links
• Home
• View my profile
• Archives
|
