…on a cloudy day.
That’s what I think when I look at the sunflowers in our flower bed, anyway. Scarlett was sent home with a tiny green shoot in a flowerpot for Mothers’ Day, back in March. And yes, I did cry. A couple of my friends (you know who you are) think it’s hilarious that I cry whenever nursery give me anything Scarlett’s made, painted or planted, but it makes me so happy! I digress.
So, we left it in its little pot and set it on the kitchen table near the window, where it started to grow. I’ve never been very good with plants, but I tried my very best with this one. You know, because my then 12 month old daughter planted it with her own fair hands (with help, granted) and such.
It turns out it was actually three sunflowers in one plant, and so, taking advice from our far more knowledgeable neighbour, Barry tentatively (and with a dubious look on his face) ripped the little plant into three and planted them across the flowerbed. It’s scary stuff, leaving them to the elements!
But they grew! We tied them up to keep them straight, and the middle one turned out to be a whopper (in our eyes, but my Grandad may disagree!). These photos were taken last month, when they were in their prime!
Sadly, all three beautiful sunflowers have now died, but Barry has the heads from which he will pluck seeds so that we can plant some more. Not that we know what we’re doing. But we try.