I adore peonies.  There's just something so special about them.  Their sweet smell.  Their endless ruffle of delicate petals.  Peonies are like a wilder, more fragrant rose and there's something about them that makes me feel nostalgic even though no one I knew had them when I was growing up.  In fact, I had never seen one until I moved to Cincinnati and saw my sister's growing in her backyard.  But growing up my grandma did keep a little rose garden and in some way peonies remind me of that; while also being something new and slightly foreign to me.  Over the years they've definitely one of my top favorite flowers. 

So last year we planted two peonies bushes in our backyard.  And while on our evening walks we've noticed various peonies bushes around our neighborhood spring into bloom.  So I would anxiously run walk to our backyard and see that ours had done nothing.  I was starting to worry that we would leave on our trip and the second I stepped foot on the plane our peonies would bloom, in spite of me.  And then they would proceed to wilt and die before I had a chance to enjoy them, because obviously my peonies are conspiring against me, for some reason!  But on Monday night, when I checked on them yet again, with little hope, I was shocked to find one of the bushes had bloomed.  A big, bright fushia blossom amongst a bed of green.  Oh, peony, you don't hate after all!  I know I'm slightly wacko when it comes to flowers, but just smile and nod at the crazy person...and look at my pretty peony that finally bloomed because it loves me!!!!!!

I hope you all have a wonderful Wednesday!

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