A little bit of "glad"ness in the rain...

I did something yesterday that I used to do frequently in Guelph (when I lived across the road from the Farmer's Market there) but don't have as much opportunity for here.

I bought myself flowers. Gladiolas, to be specific.

I love gladiolas. I have thought they were the brightest, happiest flowers ever, even when I didn't know WHAT they were. For the longest time I couldn't find them, then in Guelph, there was a vendor who always had truckloads of them, mid-July to mid-September. When I could spare the $5, I'd buy a dozen a week, and they'd usually last for two, so I'd rotate them all summer.

I had no idea where I'd picked up this affinity for these flowering bulbs, until a few years ago, a couple years after my grandmother died. I was visiting the ole' family cottage and noted that my aunt who is now its custodian always had them on the table. "They were your grandmother's favourite", she told me. They were often planted around the cottage. Without ever having taken note of that memory consciously, I realized that was where I had often seen them. Childhood summer weekends at Grandma and Grandpa's summer place. Even though many of those days have now faded from memory, I can't help but feel sunshine and a fresh breeze off Lake Erie when there's a bucket of Gladiolas around.

Happy day, yesterday, when I wandered up to St. Jacobs Market, crowded despite the rain, even before 10 am. I picked up some cheese and nice bread, blackberries and a coffee, and on the way out passed a soggy flower vendor's tent - with the gladiolas in those plastic buckets, tucked in the back, $6/dozen.

I don't care if it's rained all weekend, the plumbing in the building is shut down, and we can't wash or cook. I've got two vases full of the happiest flowers ever.