Several summers ago I grew zinnias. It was wonderful and we had cut flowers for over a month. I don’t know why I didn’t keep growing them. They got lost in my memory, in busyness, in baby-raising.
I’ve rediscovered them this summer at our local farmer’s market. $3 will buy you a lovely bunch, they last a week, and they’re quickly reclaiming their spot as my favorite flower. This is the summer of zinnias. It’s also the summer of cucumbers. And peaches. All this fresh produce is spoiling us.
Jane and I were on our own this weekend. We’re on our own a lot lately. But it’s nice to have girl time. We painted our toenails (“red-pink” was the color Jane wanted). She got her very own bunch of flowers. She swam and watched Lady and the Tramp 5 kabillion times. We tried potty training, and it resulted in great excitement about princess panties and not much success. Unless you count success as me cleaning up many, many puddles. It finally dawned on me that this is going to be a long process.
All the kiddos go back to school soon. The sun isn’t staying up quite as late in the evenings. It’s still hot as blazes, but it’s starting. It’s the decline of summer. I have to say, when it’s cold and blustery and the trees lose all their leaves, I’ll miss these zinnias. I’ll miss this summer.