Swimming in a sea of flowers.

I just finished taking care of a fundraiser for next fall’s Grade Eight Quebec trip. Is my thirteen-year-old really going across the country without me for a week, with no contact whatsoever? Yes, he is. No phones are allowed and so I will not even have TEXTS from him. It’s like we are back in the Nineties! What’s next? Overalls and flannel? Oh, wait.


Images from Forever 21.

Deep breathing.

Small digression: it’s funny how the least-flattering clothing can come back into style, like we have learned nothing from the past. History is doomed to repeat itself, etcetera. The other day my husband was watching Jimmy Fallon and Giselle Bundchen was the guest, wearing very high waisted cropped pleated pants with a tucked in blouse and high heels, and even SHE didn’t look great in it. People, if Giselle doesn’t look good in an outfit, it should NOT be in mainstream fashion, because what chance do the rest of us have? But saying that, I remember clearly – from my own high school trip to Europe – wearing a very similar outfit, minus the heels. HISTORY REPEATING ITSELF.

Anyway, back to the fundraiser. It involved selling (and in my case, buying copiously) spring plants, and thank you so much to all my beautiful friends who supported it. This is, I kid you not, the first time ever I had a fundraiser in which I had to ask my friends to buy something from me. How did I make it this long without having to sell chocolates or raffle tickets or what have you? I don’t know. I do know that I was relieved to be actually selling things that people (and myself) actually wanted and could use.

I went to pick up the plants to deliver them all around the city on Wednesday, and was distressed to hear that there was an issue with the fundraising company, in that the petunias and geraniums did not arrive. I had six flats of petunias and geraniums on order, but have been assured that they will arrive on Monday.

I was quite put out at the thought of having to come back for the missing plants but in retrospect, it was quite fortuitous that they were late. As it was, my friend who was helping me take the plants to the car looked at me and asked if I was sure I was going to be able to fit them all in. My minivan was full, absolutely full, with planters and flats of vegetables and herbs. I had every square inch covered with plants, including the seats. Had the other flowers arrived, I would have had to, I don’t know, make a second trip. Quelle disaster!

So begins gardening season. My tulips might be a raggedy hot mess, but everything else is popping out of the ground, filling me with that beautiful feeling of springtime hope. Every few hours I am sending my husband all-caps texts such as THE HOSTAS ARE UP and I THINK THE CLEMATIS IS STARTING and THE MAYDAY IS IN BLOOM. The Mayday has gone from leafing out to being in full bloom within the span of a week, god help those with seasonal allergies, but I am enjoying it. The lawn needs to be mowed and I am preparing to edge the gardens, cutting out my customary extra few inches in the quest to eventually have more garden than lawn.

Side note: my husband asked how much lawn I was going to cut out this year, to which I replied austerely that as grass grows, so it needs to be trimmed back, and my annual garden edging is merely maintaining the status quo, to which he replied that I might lie to myself, but I shouldn’t lie to him.

My husband, in Betty Draper form.

I can think of no better way to spend Mother’s Day weekend than planting – and possibly tearing out more lawn to make way for omg-how-many-plants-did-I-buy number of flowers. Have a wonderful weekend everyone, and Happy Mother’s Day to all you mamas, step-mamas, aunties, and lovely women. May you celebrate however you like best! xo


  1. I had a pair of cut-off overalls in the early 90s (my mid-20s). I loved them. If I can find photographic evidence I will send it to you.

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