#DayLateandaDollarShort
#DayLateandaDollarShort
Des Fleurs
My uncle was a wholesale flower grower, from the field behind my grandmother's house, to lease land and a rented plough horse, to owning fields and fields and fields.
I rode the back of Dick, the plough horse, while he worked. I rode in a series of dark green panel trucks with the sides painted Say It With Flowers in yellow script.
I followed along in the mists of DDT as my uncle sprayed the rows of flowers.
The "shed" where the flowers were cut and bundled into dozens was my introduction to man's inhumanity to man because people had lived in the structure with three inch spaces between the boards. The land and buildings were used in WWII as an internment camp for Japanese American citizens.
In the summer my uncle was up before sunrise (summer has long days in the northern hemisphere) and back after dark. Flowers were work.
My uncle built a flower shop for my aunt. I spent hours in the shop surrounded by the scent of flowers. Helped make boutonnieres and corsages and sprays. The scent of flowers was my retreat.
Flowers have layers of connotation for me.
When I was in my early teens, set on becoming a biologist, I would think botany is not where I want to concentrate. Then as an adult I took Field Botany, over and over again. I'd key the plant while in the field. Then back in the lab, while people argued over keying, I'd play with the stereoscopic microscope marvelling at the beauty of the small.
Bottom line. Hey, I'm a girl. I love getting flowers. :) Especially big branches of lilacs.
DDT spray photo credit: "Bundesarchiv Bild 183-S99737, Berlin, Kartoffelkäferbekämpfung" by Bundesarchiv, Bild 183-S99737 / CC-BY-SA. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 de via Wikimedia Commons - http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bundesarchiv_Bild_183-S99737,_Berlin,_Kartoffelk%C3%A4ferbek%C3%A4mpfung.jpg#mediaviewer/File:Bundesarchiv_Bild_183-S99737,_Berlin,_Kartoffelk%C3%A4ferbek%C3%A4mpfung.jpg
#28DaysofLove #flowers
Des Fleurs
My uncle was a wholesale flower grower, from the field behind my grandmother's house, to lease land and a rented plough horse, to owning fields and fields and fields.
I rode the back of Dick, the plough horse, while he worked. I rode in a series of dark green panel trucks with the sides painted Say It With Flowers in yellow script.
I followed along in the mists of DDT as my uncle sprayed the rows of flowers.
The "shed" where the flowers were cut and bundled into dozens was my introduction to man's inhumanity to man because people had lived in the structure with three inch spaces between the boards. The land and buildings were used in WWII as an internment camp for Japanese American citizens.
In the summer my uncle was up before sunrise (summer has long days in the northern hemisphere) and back after dark. Flowers were work.
My uncle built a flower shop for my aunt. I spent hours in the shop surrounded by the scent of flowers. Helped make boutonnieres and corsages and sprays. The scent of flowers was my retreat.
Flowers have layers of connotation for me.
When I was in my early teens, set on becoming a biologist, I would think botany is not where I want to concentrate. Then as an adult I took Field Botany, over and over again. I'd key the plant while in the field. Then back in the lab, while people argued over keying, I'd play with the stereoscopic microscope marvelling at the beauty of the small.
Bottom line. Hey, I'm a girl. I love getting flowers. :) Especially big branches of lilacs.
DDT spray photo credit: "Bundesarchiv Bild 183-S99737, Berlin, Kartoffelkäferbekämpfung" by Bundesarchiv, Bild 183-S99737 / CC-BY-SA. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 de via Wikimedia Commons - http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bundesarchiv_Bild_183-S99737,_Berlin,_Kartoffelk%C3%A4ferbek%C3%A4mpfung.jpg#mediaviewer/File:Bundesarchiv_Bild_183-S99737,_Berlin,_Kartoffelk%C3%A4ferbek%C3%A4mpfung.jpg
#28DaysofLove #flowers
So full of surprises you are Zara Altair
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