Monday, September 30, 2013

Poppy Delight

Way way back in Preschool, Ted grew a little poppy plant in a plastic cup from a single seed.  It came home with him one afternoon and we planted it in the backyard.  

Fast forward to a year later, and our backyard is one vast poppy field.  It's as if our home is the Emerald City (note: I did not use this reference in earshot of Ted, for fear of multiple and ongoing enactments of the relevant scene from the book).  But they were taking up valuable backyard real estate in our best plot at the back door, which receives sun all day except for the hottest part of the day, so it's perfect for raising some vegetables of choice.

The poppies had to go.

Ted, after hitting his (and my) nadir the other day, were now embarking on a new emotional gradient - one that inclined rather than declined.  He had been really lovely for the whole day; I should probably clarify that he was still a high energy, insane juggernaut of action and imagination but it was tarnished with lovable charm rather than psychotic serial killer.  

Anyway, as I leaned over the poppy bush pulling the whole thing up in a writhing mass of green and orange, Ted proclaimed that he was going to make "beautiful bouquets to give to people".  

And he meant just that.  I rummaged together a little group of mini milk-bottle style glass jars that we'd used for Harriet's birthday (and other random events as needed), Ted joyfully set about flower arranging (not quite ikebana but with enough thought and love to rival it for artistic merit) and then we set off to deliver the goods.

We delivered to our next door neighbours first.  Ted insisted on the first bouquet being for our highly tolerant and longstanding neighbour.  She wasn't home, so Ted left the jar in a well-sheltered spot and trotted off to our other newer, but equally tolerant, neighbours.  Luckily they were home and received the bouquet with good grace and respect.  Ted was on a roll!

We then had to move further afield so Harriet joined us.  Ted had elected street friends Ned and Beatrix to receive the other two bouquets.  Harriet came as well just to get in on the action.
As it was starting to arc towards dark the poppies were closing, but I think they still created a lovely look of happy; especially happy if you weren't expecting to be greeted by orange and love in a jar on that particular evening.

There has been a distinct, yet difficult to define, shift in Ted this last week.  I have even wanted to smooch and snuggle and love him without feeling the need to protect myself against flying limbs and/or physical weaponry.  It's like emerging from a long, dark tunnel with twists and turns.  I see the flicker of light every now and then, and it gives me hope. 

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