Sunday, April 10, 2011

Amaryllis by morning ...



In 1996, I bought my first house. By the spring of 1997, I had my first amaryllis.


My neighbor, Sheryl, was an avid gardener, and I was definitely a beginner. She watched me move a raised bed in 100* + temps when I was 8 months pregnant; she gave me lots of advice about native plants; and, best of all, she shared some amaryllis bulbs with me that first spring.

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Sheryl said that they would grow anywhere, so I initially stuck them all in an old whiskey barrel with a little dirt in it. They thrived. Sheryl said that they would multiply like crazy. They did. Over the years, I shared some with my mom and other people. When I eventually moved, a few amaryllis bulbs joined me. When I moved again, I was happy that I had shared with my mom, because I was able to replenish my supply.


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Now, in what I hope is my forever house, I still enjoy the bright reddish-orange blooms that shock the senses every spring. As Sheryl promised, they grow anywhere, and they're still multiplying like crazy.


Who knew that Sheryl's simple act of kindness would bring me so many years of joy? She did. Yes, she knew, because she, too, had been given her first bulbs by a kind soul, and she had enjoyed them for years before passing the treasure along to me.