I already mentioned my new flower baskets. I love them! It is marvelous to have a living display of pretty flowers right out my window.

When I went to the nursery to pick out these flowers to fill my baskets, I chose out all different kinds of random flowers. I thought I would have some sort of theme, but them I figured, what the heck? I’ll jsut pick whatever i like.

As I was happily browsing the flower aisles, I came across these most interesting plants: they had a hairy stem and a hairy bud. They were iclandic poppies.

As soon as I saw them, i flashed back to 4 years old. Back in Alaska, we had all kinds of flowers, wildflowers, everywhere. Of course, I loved to pick them and present them to my mother. She loved it too.

But once, I picked a new kind of flower, a very pretty flower different than any I had seen before. It was growing by the side of the new freeway, and I couldn’t resist picking it and showing it my mother.

“Oh! Oh no!” She laughed. “You shouldn’t pick those flowers.”

“Why not? Isnt’ it pretty? Don’t you like it?”

“Someone planted that flower. You should leave it tere for everyone to enjoy.”

Well, I had never heard of that. Someone planted a flower? Flowers sprung up out of the ground. Why would you plant one? They were everywhere.

It turned out that the new freeway had been planted with Icelandic poppies to beautify it. This was the first landscaping I had ever encountered, and it confused me very much. Flowers were for picking. I couldn’t resist picking them, and only afterwards I would remember that THESE flowers were forbidden.

They never actually took off that well, anyway. A very few poppies dotted the banks of the freeway. They were rare enough to cause excitement when one was spotted.

But when I saw those poppies in the flower nursery, I remembered the feel of the hairy stem in my young hand. I had to buy some right away.

I bought the one that didn’t have any blooms on it yet. I wanted to watch it unfold and pet the furry blossom pod for a little.