It's time to plant memories of mom

I bought some pansies yesterday. They were my mother’s favorite flower. I used to never buy pansies for myself because as soon as the weather gets hot the colorful petals wither and die. Instead, I would buy flats of the flower with a face and give them to her on Mother’s Day. It made both of us happy. The new flowers are currently sitting by the side of the driveway, waiting for the rain to stop.

In some places the plants are referred to as hearts ease or tickle my fancy, although I have not heard anyone call them by those names. The word, pansy, is taken from the French word, panse, which means romantic thought. The pretty flower was once used in a Celtic love potion. Pansies would said to cure a broken heart. I presume that was because the love potion wasn’t as effective as expected.

The legends do not say if the petals, stems, or roots are used in the potions or if simply looking at them or touching the silky petals would do the trick. The romance of pansies seems to have dissipated through the years but pansies are still associated with the notion that someone is thinking of you in a fond manner.

History aside, for me and my family, the petite plants are a pretty remembrance of my mom. Besides, it is far too early to plant annuals other than pansies. There is still a chance of more snow and a hard frost or two for another couple of weeks. Pansies are one of the few annual flowers that can stand a bit of cold.

The warm weather last week was a welcome, if short-lived, change from the chilly spring days. It allowed me to go barefoot outside without freezing my toes off. A trip around the yard revealed way too many bare spots and at least two rabbit nests. I began to wonder if the bunnies have read “Watership Down” and were attempting to replicate it.

Then again, the rabbits could be in cahoots with the evil squirrels and are determined to decimate the lawn by filling it with random holes just the right size to trip on. I’m certain that the small critters are positive that the yard is theirs and theirs alone and that we humans are the interlopers. They could be right.

The chilly temperatures have returned, along with April showers. This is so I can finish the spring cleaning without succumbing to the siren song of the outdoors. I have to keep reminding myself that in a few short weeks we will be done with the cold and the full-time job of weeding will begin.

The pansies will let me play in the dirt and think about all the years that I planted them with and for my mom. They are a pretty reminder of one facet of her life.

I really don’t need pansies to brighten up the yard. The daffodils are in their glory and will soon be replaced by tulips. The pussy willow is going to seed and the sun sparkling through the pollen-laden catkins is beautiful. Some of the crocuses are lingering to give a relief from the blazing yellow daffodils.

There are plenty of things in bloom and soon the pansies will join them. They are a memorial to my mom. They mark the beginning of another growing season. By the time the vegetable garden is producing, the pansies will likely be done blooming and will have been replaced by something that prefers heat to cold.

But for now, I have memories to plant.