“Oh, open the windows! The fragrance from the lilacs in the back yard is magnificent!” A famous comment from the Ludvigson Lace Lady every Minnesota May.
She first noticed the lilacs of May when she was in high school. To break a sprig off the nearest bush on your way to school, was like defying the torture of entering the school building. “We should be outside taking in the fragrance of Spring,” she pouted as she entered the musty corridors.
The lilac sprig would be placed anywhere that would successfully travel close to your nose: in your hair, wound between the spirals of a notebook, clipped in your pen or just held between your fingers.
“As long as it was available for a quick whiff!”
And it would have to last til at least through lunch hour. And then another sprig would have to be found. And lilac bushes were everywhere!
To have aged from those high school days by a few decades and to freely smell the enchanting purfumed fragrance from your own back yard without having to enter school’s torture chambers was a pure delight!
“And I can’t help but smile about it! “
Flowers share such joy. They cannot be ignored. Theyes demand your attention. Not only in fragrance, but even more so in colorfull beauty.
“So, why can’t you keep the flowerbed of roses on the sunny southside of the house, in a flourishing bloom cycle?”
And the Ludvigson Lace Lady has no answer. She has no green thumb. She has only to look at a plant, and it will die. And even worse than that, is the stress involved in watching the living thing die!
“And they all are!” Dying, that is. From the moment they are cut, death has begun. When uncut, still rooted in soil, the blossoms wilt and fall to the ground.
“The beautiful greeneries don’t have a chance either – in my care,” she earnestly shares with those who want her to babysit their plants while they are gone, on a week’s vacation.
“You’ll come back to dead plants, if you leave them with me!”
But lilacs are different. They can be picked. Enjoyed. And allowed to die. Why? I just don’t know. They have their own set of rights.
Wild flowers are an interesting commodity! The Ludvigson Lace Lady actually succeeded in a wild flowers garden pursuit! How? Well maybe you can explain why:
▪ There was the sandbox, that the four Ludvigson boys outgrew.
▪ Neighborhood cats, never seen during the daytime, we’re enjoying the sandbox at night.
▪ Hmmm. Maybe the cat intervention was the reason the boys felt deterred.
▪ Well, with all that cat fertilizer in the sand, let’s spread some wild flowers seed, and see what happens.
▪ My green thumb sister came by one day and said, “It will never happen. You can’t grow flowers in sand.”
▪ We had a beautiful wild flowers garden in the sandbox. Not one year. Not two. But many years. With the compliments of butterfies!
▪ “The only reason the wild flowers grew was because I wasn’t thinking about it.” They managed completely on their own.
“Silk flowers are the only way to go! They never die!” And this is true! You only have to give them a bath regularly – to dust them off. “And that is much more humane. No death. No grief. Just the beauty!”
And my, how beautiful the silk flowers can be! Most often they look just as real as real!
So, my house has mostly been filled with colorful, undying silk flowers. Loved them. Infact, hoarding started kicking in! At one painful point in a recent time, I filled a wardrobe box full of silk flowers, as we were moving. In our downsizing chaos, somehow the wardrobe box made it to the thrift store, in lieu of our new home!
How I grimaced as Tim and I went again to the (silk) flower shop to purchase more. As the dollar bills fell out of our pockets, as the cashier rang up a bill, we clung to the old saying, “value is remembered long after the purchace price!”
And the Ludvigson Lace Lady was adding, “And I hope someone is enjoying our silk flower wardrobe at thrift store prices!”
Enjoy your springtime flowers. Real or silk! Enjoy sharing their beauty as a gift to your mom. Or a Mother’s Day gift to you!
Enjoy getting down into the dirt planting your favorite species.
Or enjoy the beauties that don’t require water! And don’t die!
I guess you can have too many hobbies. That is probably why the Ludvigson Lace Lady could not manage live flowers: too much water? Not enough? More sun? No sun? Too much babysitting.
The Ludvigson Lace Lady had babysitting on her mind, but it came in the fashion of real live children. Watering schedules for them were my hobbies!
Plus crocheting. Yup. Making lace. Loving making lace, while gazing up at my healthy, perfectly watered and perfectly sunned silk flowers. That’s the Ludvigson Lace Lady’s way!
Tiptoeing through the tulips – with my crochet hook,
The Ludvigson Lace Lady
LUDVIGSON LACE ♡ Aftcra
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