Sunday, Mary and I went to the Philadelphia Flower Show, something to which I haven’t been in twenty years. The theme this year was cinema, specifically <DIZ-nee> and <PIKS-ahr> films*. Not to my taste, me devoutly adhering to the belief that plants, not anthropomorphized rodentia, should remain the focus of a plant show, but no one asked me.
There were a great many interesting things to be seen, and quite a few of them actually plant-based. Some displays were dreadful and lackluster, a failing Mary and I agree the blame for which falls on the theme company’s double sponsorship of the event. When one has so few plants in his plant display that one need search for them for several minutes until he’s discovered them then that first one has failed the second one mightily. Despite the mixed bag of the day’s and all those confusing non-specific descriptors I feel enthused and inspired toward spring projects.
Mary and I looked for a Japanese maple to replace the one my mother murdered two decades ago, but we found no plants more arborious than Forsythia. No new trees for me. To think, had my mother not murdered my Japanese Maple some months after my having got it at my last trip to the PFS the tree would now be near its full dwarven height. Purple-thumbed though she is, my mother’s grim vegetation reaping can’t quite cut across the 350 miles which now separate us.
I’m still processing what I saw and thinking of how I care to direct my sudden influx of planting energy. I have many pictures to post, thoughts to think, and writings to write. That and painting the bathroom is all I have planned for tomorrow, so forgive the feckless nature of tonight’s post by the promise of something more substantial in the week’s remaining days.
*Speak of the devil and the devil appears. While I'd like this blog to be more popular, Eisner's legal team is not the sort of attention I'd relish.