Morning Glory

I knew my red hibiscus was going to bloom today; I had no idea about my new yellow one, fresh home from Grandpa Bob’s funeral.

The red one is from Grandma Ginny’s. Just between you and me: I’m hoping not to add any more hibiscuses (hibisci?) to my collection any time soon.

Which is kind of funny (as in funny/strange, not funny/ha-ha) because just Thursday night when I was stocking up on chips and Cheetos and bubbles, I spent a good several minutes in the plant department at Wal-Jack, debating whether I needed a new hibiscus plant or not. I mean, they had some pretty ones, and I always feel like I should “rescue” one or two by bringing them home ... even though we all know my track record with plants. But, ultimately, I decided not to.

Anyhoo, Grandpa Bob and Grandma Ginny were married at one time but then were divorced for many years. They were amicable enough in their final years, once they realized, I guess, that they were at the mercy of their daughters and simply had to get along, at least long enough for Thanksgiving and/or Christmas dinner.

“Virginia was a good housekeeper,” Grandpa Bob said at one family gathering. “She kept the house — and everything in it!”

(I don’t think I’ll set the plants too close to each other. You never know.)

: )