Humble Marigolds

It was unexpectedly good. And not in a gossipy way, but in a beautifully written and dispassionately-passionate manner.

I am a sucker for memoir, and checked out three from the library last week.  
At the top of the heap for no particular reason was Angelic Huston's WATCH ME.  I enjoy peeping into others' lives and my voyeurism in this case did not go unrewarded. Her words are elegantly succinct, passionate without being overly sentimental. A beautifully descriptive telling in a rich, dramatic and compelling voice. 

One of my favorite passages was of an East Indian wedding, describing members of the bridal party "festooned in marigolds and roses..." , enticing an audible 'ahhhh' from this reader, and evoking memories of beloved marigolds from previous seasons in my own garden.

I no sooner finished and put down the book, than I picked up my, as yet lone, seed catalog to check out the marigold offerings. I prefer my marigolds tall and bosomy in voluptuous dahlia-like form, verses petite and bushy and less generous with their petals. 

I have long been a fan of Park's WHOPPER MARIGOLD COLLECTION in yellow and orange...even giving them full possession of one entire quadrant of the summer potager. 

In my mind, repelling insects and battling root nematodes, a well-known (and perhaps overblown) perk of growing just a side gig. Their true raison d'ĂȘtre...

is to fill my summer vases with bright and sunny cut flower happiness...

and my colorless winter thoughts with the same.

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