Mums and Remembrance

Exactly ten years ago I was driving down a country road on a most beautiful morning anticipating the purchase of six pots of mums to set on the old milk cart in the front of my home. On the car radio I heard that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. I continued on my mission, believing it was a small and errant commuter plane. By the time my car was colorful with mums I knew the horrible truth of September 11. It wasn't until much later that afternoon that I even took the mums from the car under an eerily quiet sky that was accustomed to regular air traffic. I remember that it seemed wrong to be doing something so trivial when our nation was in such a grave situation. Yet as I look back I see it as my small way of bringing light to a very dark world. Today was a mum day again.

I've always set pots of mums on a cart, watered until I grew careless, then chopped them up for November's compost. I have NEVER planted a mum! Their reputation as poor winter hibernators precedes them. I recently read an article that made me believe I could do it. Planting instructions were to 1) Buy Belgian 2) Buy plants in bud, not bloom 3) Plant early 4) Soak the roots first. I removed from along the walk the petunias that are tired of "waving," and gave to the Angelonia and Victoria Blue Salvia the job of complementing the mums. Planting six mums took over ninety minutes because of the tedium of teasing the roots from the root ball and because of the care needed to avoid snapping off brittle stems (score - minus one). I handled them like newborn babies. But I'm glad I'm trying something new. When September turns to October, they should be in full bloom. And on this tenth anniversary, they did their part to brighten a sad day.