Plethora is one of my favorite words in the whole world.
I use it every chance I get and teased SM a l o n g time ago that if we'd had a daughter, I'd name her Plethora. (Of course, this was received with the expected eye roll.)
Anyhoo...I find that I have overplanted the zinnias. I must have tossed about 20 packets of seeds in my flower beds.
I now have a plethora of zinnias. :)
Nice problem to have.
But I hate seeing all those blooms just hanging out under the bright, blue sky wasting their multicolor joy on nothing but the birds and the bugs.
These suckers were planted to be cut and stuck in a mason jars to decorate home and hearth (and work desks at my office.)
I have jars and jars of flowers. Once cut, they last a surprisingly long time. About a week before they start to droop and fade and need to be tossed.
So I am now giving jars of flowers to the neighbors.
Debbie, my good friend across the way, has summers off from her job as a teachers assistant.
So I'm walking across the street to her house at 6:15 in the am the other morning, flowers in hand, looking for signs of life.
Nope. Nothing. No lights on.
I come up to the side of her house where her kitchen window is and reach WAY UP and stick the jar of flowers on the windowsill over her sink. Once she gets up, she'll see her special delivery sitting in her window. Ta Da.
As I'm coming back down the drive I notice a lady walking her dog. I've seen her plenty of times before but have never met her. Her dog is one of those great big mop dogs. The kind whose hair hangs in dreadlocks.
Anyhow, her dog is just itching to say Hello and sniff me so I stop and oblige... petting her and giving her some sweet talk.
As they walk away the lady turns around pointing at Deb's house and says laughing "Now I know who the Flower Fairy is!"
I smile and say "Yeah, that's me. The Flower Fairy!"