and then i became friends with a native plant girl. she taught (or tried to teach) me about california natives. we went on day trips to seek out these plants at various nurseries. we would buy too much. share garden envy over really cool native gardens. talk soil, sun and water... you know, all the things that made me go "who cares. thanks for sharing. boring." in my younger years.
i justified it because cali plants were new to me and different and an adventure. really, it was the same as my momma. i liked plants. the difference is that my momma was good at it and i stunk. my garden could never thrive because of the dreaded toxins emitted by our huge black walnut tree. i was destined to fail. but i kept trying, in spite of my lack of knowledge, toxic roots beneath the soil and black thumb.
when we first moved into our california home, i had my friends over for a playdate. she was a dear friend of mine, her eldest was close with e and her second was close with d. we hung together often. the kids were playing. the mommas were chatting. all was right in the world. until...
d came in and said that her mouth was on fire. she was newly 4 at the time. i asked her what happened and her friend reported that they were playing fairies and d had ripped off a plant and licked the stem. oh.
my mom friend and i looked at each other and tried to come up with the best course of action. was this a "call the ambulance", "call the pediatrician", google the image of the plant... or something else. meanwhile, d was in tears and saying that her tongue was on fire. i was leaning toward calling poison control. my friend, suggested that i lick the plant so that i would know what it felt like. she thought that would make it easier for me to explain it to poison control. my gut told me nope. not. bad. don't.
and still somehow, i licked the plant.
it was a moment of very poor judgment.
after a little chit chat with poison control, i learned we had licked something called jack-in-the pulpet. it would be fine... after a few hours of feeling like our mouths were filled with knives. no worries. you might puke, but we're pretty sure you'll be fine. oh, and typically, we don't advise that you lick what your kid licks if it might be poisonous.
cool. my friend left because the playdate was clearly over and d and i were left with our knife slicing mouths to wait it out.
good times.
this weekend, my fam got out of dodge. we had officially had enough of our four walls and needed a change of scenery. we headed out of town for a mountain get-away. on the way, i pointed out this plant that reminded me of a childhood memory. i forced the girlies to take out their airpods and listen to my story.
i told them how when i was little my momma would make me and my sisters pick queen anne's lace in the summer. we would smash the cut flowers between encyclopedias and then wait a few months. after some time had passed, we would remove the pressed flowers and glue them onto the fronts of blank notecards. we would bundle 10 notecards together with their envelopes and gift them to our teachers for christmas. it was always received with rave reviews like, "you made these?", "homemade gifts are the best gifts!", "these look like they are from a fine stationary store!"...
later i became a teacher and i understood that the compliments were exaggerated but the appreciation behind the act of homemade was sincere and lovely. anyone can buy you a mug. handmade gifts showed an appreciation from a family that was next level. i could feel the love in the efforts and it always meant a great deal.
the kids listened to the story but were honestly just as happy when it was over and they could resume airpod music listening.
today on our way home, the buse suddenly put his turn signal on to go off of the country divided highway. i noticed immediately and asked him where he was going.
"to get you some of those flowers from your childhood so you can make some cards."
and my hear skipped a beat. he was listening. he cared. he was honoring my sense of adventure and need to recreate my childhood memories with my girls. and i joked that since we were never going back to school again i would be making my own teacher's appreciation gifts to give to myself.
joke was on me.
the buse and i picked a bundle of flowers and jumped back into the car. we stashed the flowers in the back and they were poking into the seat that poppy was sitting it. she was a good sport.
and my heart was happy.
upon retrurning home, i posted some pics from our trip to facebook. a friend of mine commented that the flowers we had picked might possibly be poison hemlock.
um. what?
what is that?
a little google search returned that they are twinsies plants. one being toxic to ingest and often causing a rash to the skin of one who picks it and the other being this lovely look-a-like plant that has a little blackish/red dot in the center (known to make lovely stationary). i investigated our bunch and much to my dismay, it appears we have the hemlock. ugh.
time will tell if the buse and i (and possibly pops) end up with red welts and some horrible itchy rash.
it's the thought that counts, right? and this girl might be giving up on plants because... well... let's be honest, i just don't have the gift.
regardless of what happens, i am thankful for a hubs who was listening and cared enough to attempt to let me recreate a memory.
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