There are some changes going on at home right now, and I’m grasping at straws to do something that will lighten my spirits and give me a sense of control. So I decided to do something simple and effective: make some small changes in my living environment to exercise my need for control on something in this spiraling existence.
Here in Texas, we typically go from “summer” to “winter” without much of a “fall” between the two. Flowers tend to do well long into November or later some years, and though the summery blooms of geraniums and daisies are a practical choice, attempts to provide some fall colors come is waves of gold and brown chrysanthemums and the green and red leaves of Red-Tipped Photinas rather than the turning of leaves from green to brilliant shades of orange and red.
My youngest daughter and I set out to a local “Home Improvement” store with two tasks in mind: paint for the exterior front entry way and flowers to plant in the same spot. Both of us were drawn to the beautiful bronze-red tones of tiny chrysanthemums. As we began to pick through the flowers to find the healthiest of plants in four-inch plastic pots, a store employee asked if she could help us.
I told her “not really” we were just looking for some fall flowers. She started trying to talk me out of the mums because “they will die the first freeze”. Katie and I looked at each other and kept looking. The girl kept talking, telling me I would be happier with something else – maybe a variety of pansy called “Johnny jump-ups” that would last through the winter. We tore ourselves away for a moment, and looked at the purple and white Johnny jump-ups, and when I asked her if they had any in the beautiful bronze-red color, she said no, but that I WOULD be happy with them. I turned to go back to the mums and she followed, talking all the way about the inability for the mums to last into the cold.
I stopped, touched my daughter’s arm, and told her that we would wait on flowers, but it was time to get the paint. I told the employee that we needed to go and any flower decision would simply have to wait until another time. After we got the paint, and headed home, I realized that the employee had made me angry, but also frustrated.
How could she know what my goal was for the plants in my yard? Better yet, how could she possibly know that the goal was more than lasting flowers, but something that would lighten my spirits? Did she really need to dissuade me from spending $3.50 so that my two flowers would last more than a month? To be completely frank, because of the tiredness of my soul, I simply didn’t have it in me to argue with the girl, nor did I have a desire to snatch what I wanted and walk away. At this point, it was easier to simply walk and not add another bit of challenge to my already challenged life.
Two days later, we headed to the other Home Improvement store in my neighborhood. It wasn’t really my intent to go somewhere different because of the plant girl; I needed a replacement handle for a bathroom faucet and knew that the store I had visited earlier didn’t have it. My daughter reminded me that we still hadn’t purchased any flowers for the front porch, so after acquiring a faucet handle, a cable for the television, and a can of wood sealer, we wandered into the garden department.
There on display were more chrysanthemums as well as Pansies and English Ivy. No where did I see “Johnny jump-ups”. There were employees of the store all around as well, and they simply asked me if I needed help reaching a bag of potting soil, as th
ey could see I knew what I wanted to look at among the potted plants waiting for a home. We left after fifteen minutes of wandering through the plants; admiring the variety of color choices we had been given. The clerk flirted a bit with me as he rang us up, and offered to help us load the car – though we declined.
When we got home, my fingers itched to dig in the dirt, so I did. I planted two bronze-red mums in clay pots as well as half a dozen yellow pansies along the walk. My daughter lovingly watered them and promised to help me keep them fed and watered in the future.
I am beginning to see a light at the end of this thing I call my life and the mess it had become. I’m beginning to see that taking baby-steps towards my need for control of my environment can work. And then as I gain a sense of control, other parts of my life are slowly following the path of my environment.
And my soul feels lighter every time I see the chrysanthemums on my front porch. It was well worth the $5.00 I spent, even if they die next week.