Love what you Love

I'm crazy about marigolds. Yes, poor persecuted marigolds. Forever disdained for a down-market image.

Some people loathe marigolds. A friend was over for dinner the other night and, while sitting in the back yard surrounded by marigolds, he revealed it's his hometown's official flower. He also said he didn't like them.

Maybe he dislikes his hometown or the way officials would use marigolds to spell out words in flower gardens. Or maybe it's their scent. That turns a lot of people off, including insects! Anyway, there was no changing his mind. He simply doesn't like them and he's not alone.

On the other hand, I find myself falling in love the more we get acquainted. Deeply in love.

I love them when they're seeds, when they're blooming in window boxes, flower pots and in the ground. I love placing them in vases to adorn tables and window sills. I love them dried, strung and hung on the wall, and lounging about in bowls.

I wonder why I love marigolds so much. I don't think my mother ever once planted them in her bountiful and beautiful garden. Although I never heard her say a mean word about them either.

Anyway, it doesn't matter why. Sometimes we just love what we love.