Palm Sunday: Pansy Attack!

Palm Sunday dawned raw and drizzly here, with a thick layer of morning fog that had mostly burned off by the time I picked up my rider-to-church, a lady named Dorothy who is not able to drive right now. It was a rainy drive, but by the time we had arrived at church the drizzle had nearly stopped. We were able to have our Palm Sunday procession, from the parish hall down to the intersection, across the street and up to the Church on the Hill. This is the first Palm Sunday in years that it has not rained out a procession! We had a full congregation, and most of them processed. We even had a local police officer as our crossing guard!

After the service, the sun came out, and I developed an itch.

Well, it can't be holy week without flowers, right? Even a Holy Week as early as this one.

Soon I found myself at the garden center, almost against my will, having a real pansy attack. I love pansies -- I love the deep, pure colors against the spring-green leaves and the gentle way the flowers nod in the wind. I bought 4 pots: 2 in varying shades of blue, one in bright yellow and orange, and one in a deep, variegated burgundy. At home, I popped them into a pot on the porch that I had already filled with new soil.

Naturally, on Sunday night the mercury plummeted to near freezing. But the pansies seem to have endured it cheerfully -- much more cheerfully that I do. They're willing to wait for spring.

Me, not so much.