Monday, August 3, 2009
Morning Glorious Love
For years my husband and I have had a running argument about the most unlikely subject—morning glories. There is no fence-sitting here. He stands firmly on the side of hate. I am planted on the side of love.
What my husband most abhors is their quality he calls "invasive". I will readily admit they send out shoots in all directions and they travel great distances at the speed of light but I see this quality as vibrant and "inquisitive". Ten years ago we had a garden where I planted morning glories. I am so in love with their intensely blue flowers. I was disappointed when those seeds never bloomed that year. The following year, however, they surprised me by springing to life. With a gusto! They quickly covered the back fence with lush green leaves and a galaxy of blue flowers. I was in heaven.
My husband, however, was in the "other" place. He is the one who takes care of the garden, for the most part. Once the morning glories arrived so did the cussing. My morning glories, as he tells it, had become greedy. They were not content to decorate the dull, drab brown fence. No. They were headed straight for his roses. Now I will say here, my husband was known for the gorgeous roses he grew. These were long stemmed beauties he grew by the armfuls. But my morning glories were trying to strangle his roses. They were traveling across the lawn (another of his garden favorites) and climbing the thirty foot Italian cypress trees. They were "strangling" everything in sight (his word, not mine.) Every day he'd rip out huge lengths of their vines but they seemed to have doubled themselves by morning. The way he tells it I see images of Mickey as the sorcerer's apprentice from Fantasia where the mops keep doubling and those keep doubling. It's a freaking morning glorious nightmare.
Now, I know I may be sounding like the villan here. I'll admit that morning glories are a bit unruly. But I rather like that about them. Maybe it's akin to falling for the bad boys at school. You like the fact that they are rascals. And scoundrels. You wouldn't necessarily want to marry one of them but as eye candy or fantasy fodder they can't be beat.
I also think morning glories are a lot like ravens, crows and jays—gorgeous, strong, tenacious and inventive. For all of them the word "no" means "go around" or "find another way." I admire this about them. In life, I think these are the qualities you need to reach your dreams. In my experience, people are always telling you to stay in your place. You can go this far but no farther. Don't set your sites too high. Well, good luck telling that to a crow. Or a jay. Or a morning glory. Or, guess what, ME!
After tangling with the morning glories for several years, when we moved, my husband forbid me to ever plant another morning glory (unless I wanted to take over the maintenance of the yard.) Okay. Fair enough. But that doesn't stop me from loving and admiring them every time I see one. The other day as I was driving around town I spotted a fence filled with my blue lovelies and I had to stop to take some pictures.
And if you think love's not powerful, morning glories have begun peeking over the top of the fence in our new home. Our neighbor, it appears, is standing on the side of love.