Volunteer Petunias

   Growing up on the farm, I was always impressed by Pop's sincere love for gardening.  He loved growing things...anything.   The fields were always kept weed-free and plant happy.  Acres and acres of corn, peas, greens (of all sorts), beans, squash, cucumbers, potatoes...you name it, he most likely had it growing somewhere.  As if that was not enough to keep him busy, he raised assorted fruit trees, nut tree and berry vines.  All in all, the man provided enough crops to feed our large family and sell to others.   There were also the farm animals and side businesses that kept him going from dawn to dusk.  The man enjoyed keeping busy.  Still, all of that was not enough.  He had a gorgeous yard full of flower gardens.  It was those flowers that brought him so much joy.

  I was thinking of Pop, today, while out puttering in the gardens.  Memories of helping Pop with the flower gardens came flowing back while I weeded one particular patch.  I have several volunteer old-fashioned petunias that pop up year after year.  I never know where I will find them but I always start looking in March for my lovelies.  Pop always had these in his gardens and I was taught to carefully look while weeding.  Pop taught me the difference between the petunia seedlings and clover.  At one inch in height, they can look mighty similar.  (Keep in mind that I am talking actual clover here and not the oxalis that everyone calls clover.)  It was often my job to weed the gardens since I was small and could maneuver through the plants without damaging them.  I knew that the petunias would soon fill the gardens with all the different shades of purple that I could imagine so I was extremely careful to not pull them by mistake.

  The petunias in my gardens are of those same purples that Pop had.  They haphazardly sprout in the most unusual places so I transplant them inside of the garden borders.  Pop would be proud that I still find joy in gardening and I am sure he is equally proud that petunias and zinnias (two of his favorites) are in my gardens.  Thanks, Pop, for teaching me to how to grow things!