Blooming petunias paint a certain glow over the landscape

All the way back in the middle of March when the cool, damp days were still a shade shorter than the cold, dark nights, the hope of spring was in the air. St. Patrick’s Day loomed large on the horizon, and people in the know were preparing to make things green — and I’m not just talking about shamrock T-shirts, emerald ale. Folks truly in tune with their calendars were preparing to plant their peas, a long-held tradition that is said to bring good luck and maybe even a mess of peas come summertime.

I learned of the tradition decades ago when I first began taking note of the grumbled musings of my father-in-law as he’d hobbled around his backyard cursing the squirrels and trash-talking his neighbor Hank’s pink and purple pansies. Although I listened thoroughly and noted thoughtfully, I am still myself — an individual that waits until the last minute to do darn near everything. I’ve failed miserably at meeting the “good luck” deadline again and again.

Still, even though my peas never actually make it in the ground by the given date, the whole notion of doing it puts me in the gardening frame of mind, and I take up other less committed behaviors, like looking at seed catalogs and researching the latest, greatest gardening gimmick. It was during this spring’s preplanting musings that I happened upon the firefly petunia. Is it even possible to dream up something cooler than a flower that glows in the dark? It was love at first sight.

Off to the website I raced with fumbling thumbs. There I learned the bioluminescent blossom could be mine for the low, low price of a lot of money, most of which was actually shipping. If I ordered a set of four of the plants, however, I could score free shipping and the best Mother’s Day present ever! (Because what says “I love you” more than giving a mother one more thing to take care of, right?)

Truthfully, I was merely looking for a way to justify the purchase so when my wife saw it on the credit card statement, I could tell her it was a gift — for her! And if that wasn’t enough to melt her heart, I’d bashfully tell her the other two were for three other distinguished mothers in our circle: our daughter Charlotte, my sister Sandy and none other than Kristin’s favorite mom, my mother-in-law Jackie.

When the plants arrived, they were considerably less than impressive, but given the time of year, I knew they were still far from their prime. I vowed to nurture them all until each could be deemed worthy of its recipient.

Mother’s Day came and went with the flowers still in rehab, but by the time Memorial Day rolled around, the blossoms had taken off in a blaze. I was smitten. Kristin reminded me, however, that my original intention was to give the beauties away, so we drove Charlotte’s up to her place. Sandy’s made it across our sideyard fence into her domain, and Kristin’s is the glowing centerpiece of our patio. My mother-in-law’s flower hit a snag.

“I vowed to care for each of these babies until it was worthy of its recipient,” I reminded Kristin. “Based on historical observation, nothing I’ve ever done has been worthy of your mother, so I’m just going to hold onto this one until it is perfect, OK?”

Perfection is ever elusive, and with Fourth of July just around the corner, “my” firefly petunia is outshining them all!

Kristin and John Lorson would love to hear from you. Write Drawing Laughter, P.O. Box 170, Fredericksburg, OH 44627, or email John atjlorson@alonovus.com.