Daffodil therapy

Daffodils. Great name for a flower I think. Something daffy is well, happy, a childhood memory made tangible and moments without pressure: pure frivolity.

Prior to when Dale retired from the USAF, I went into a panic mode. What in the weeda world (a Norwegian expression from my fabulous grandmother) were we going to be doing? Good night, he would be home all the time. A life time of crew rest. OH MY!!
My Mom was a great gardener. She could take a clump of dirt and transform it into a living breathing eye-grabbing spectacle. I thought the gardens were just for show… now I know differently.
Bring on the daffodils.

The fall season that we moved into our house we planted bulbs. A gazillion it seems. My back told me that. Each year we add to the number and type of bulbs growing in the many gardens that greet folks as they pass our entrance gate. Tulips I learned are a favorite snack of deer and squirrels… we don’t plant them anymore. But the daffodils flourish. They announce spring, celebrate the coming warmth, the cycle of life that lets this crew thrive during our crew rest. Daffy? Sure! Tangible – oh yes. I have bouquets everywhere.

May I suggest you get your garden gloves on and plant a few gardens. Crew rest isn’t spent sleeping… it is checking out life with a great partner.byDeborahonMonday, April 12, 2010Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to PinterestMilitary Life:daffodils,Deborah