Dear Readers, I was paying a visit to Sunshine Garden Centre today when I saw these starry petunias – the variety is known as ‘Night Sky’, or ‘Constellation’, or some such. I was immediately taken back to memories of Dad and his hanging baskets – he had six or seven dotted around the bungalow in Milborne St Andrew in Dorset, and every year he looked for something new. He was very chuffed when he spotted these stripy petunias…
…but the starry ones were very special. I found them online, and sent him some, and he was so delighted. At this point he was still using a step ladder to sort out the baskets every year, but as his health declined, a local woman came to help with planting the garden. She managed to rig up a pulley system so that Dad could bring the baskets down to a suitable height for watering, and so many an evening was spent toddling around the house with a milk bottle full of water (the watering can was too heavy at this point).
I really knew that things were no longer sustainable in the house when I arrived one day to find Dad almost in tears, the petunias in the baskets parched and dry. I watered them but it was too late. Dad made the best of it, and got the gardener to make up some containers near the door instead. But Dad hated that he couldn’t look out of the window and see the petunias.
When he went into the Nursing Home, one of his first ‘jobs’ was to plant up the hanging baskets in the tiny garden. He was ecstatic.
“At least I don’t have to water them!” he said. And yes, they were full of petunias.
And so, although they aren’t good for pollinators, I have a great fondness for petunias, in all their blousy glory. They seem to flower forever, and they bring such cheerfulness to anywhere that they’re planted. I just wish Dad could have seen the array of different cultivars in the garden centre today. He’d have been spoiled for choice.
And it got me wondering. Do you have any plants that remind you strongly of someone that you knew? I suspect that my experience is far from unique….
Plants in general, and especially flowers, carry with them many memories and connotations. I am currently working on a presentation of the significance of flowers in Shakespeare’s plays. As to your question: Our wild ginger reminds me of growing up in the Lowveld, indigenous gladioli of my mother, bright red hibiscus of my father …
That’s lovely, Anne, and your presentation sounds really interesting – will you be sharing it on the blog? My mind immediately runs to Ophelia, of course, but I’m sure there are many, many others…
Christmas cacti and sweet peas remind me of my Hereford Granny and fuchsias of my Uncle Fred. I still have the offspring of the cacti, they flower before Christmas each year and are now enjoying their Summer break in the garden. The scent of lilies takes me straight back to my youngest son’s wedding.
Thanks Ann – I must pop my Christmas Cactus into the garden, they do enjoy a little holiday! It’s so nice that you still have the cactus ‘babies’….
Sweet Williams remind me of my uncle Fred, cornflowers of my mum and night scented stock were my dad’s absolute favourite.
My Dad loved night-scented stock too…so many memories!
My family were not really gardeners, but my young years were spent in San Diego, CA. At those ages, we spend a lot of time close to the ground and touching things, and so the scent of geraniums, eucalyptus, and lantana whisk me back to being 6-12 years old and playing in the gardens of friends. I used to use one lantana bloom as in impressive bouquet in my doll’s house.